Kidnap
by Marjorie Nescio
Summary: Queen Clarisse is kidnapped.
1. Prelude

The main characters (which are the only ones I will use) belong to Meg Cabot and/or Disney. All characters are fictional.

'Kidnap' takes place in November of the year when the Queen travelled to San Francisco to meet her granddaughter.

I hope you will enjoy reading it. In case you are not interested in Princess Diaries stories only: I also wrote for Harry Potter, the Sound of Music and Shakespeare and I wrote crossovers for the Sound of Music/Inglorious basterds and the Big Bang theory/the Walking dead.

~ Kidnap ~

Chapter 1 - Prelude

Joe Romero, Head of Security of Her Majesty the Queen of Genovia, could imagine foreigners thinking that the Kingdom of Genovia was a fairy-tale country.

Its capital had become wealthy in the days of the Baroque, and unfortunatelly that showed. Joe had once heard an American child, who was walking in Pyrus's main street, cry out: ´Where are Donald, and Mickey, and Captain Hook and Tinkerbell?´ The parents were unsuccessful in convincing their son that they were not in Disney World. The boy had pointed at the De La Fleur hotel, with its pink-ish ornamental towers and he could only forget the absence of his heroes when a chocolate covered pear was pushed in his hands.

A fairy tale country because of the architecture and because of this: the Royal Audience. Long forgotten in other western countries, but fully functional in Genovia. In case you have a problem and the regular ways of solving it don't work: go to the Castle and bother the Monarch with it.

Joe studied the line of waiting countrymen. He would be relieved when the last Genovian had left the Castle. It wasn't that he worried about curious people sneaking into the Castle: there was security everywhere. _Almost_ everywhere. Custom demanded that the subjects should be able to ask their liege's advice without anyone eavesdropping. It meant that the nearest guard to defend Her Majesty stood ten metres to her left.

Joe and several of his men were scanning the crowd. There were men and women waiting, old and young alike, poor and rich. He was pleased to see people with a non-Genovian background. When they had found their way to the Queen, they had found their way in Genovia, he reasoned. Everyone was a little nervous and the closer they got to Her Majesty, the less they spoke. Some were moving their lips, silently rehearsing what they would tell their Queen. Others looked in every direction, except to the throne.

Joe wasn't too shy to stare at his charming Queen. She listened, advised, and reassured and everyone who left the throne room was relieved and impressed.

A young woman had brought her child with her and when they walked away from the Queen, the boy freed his hand from his mother's to run back to the throne. The mother panicked, but the Queen smiled when the child handed her yellow flowers that he had held in his pocket. The boy's action made most people relax, as the monitors at the side of the Throne Room showed. Joe noticed that the man who was next in line was very tense. Joe hurried forward, without actually running.

When the man knelt for the Queen, Joe started to think he had been overreacting.


	2. News flash

Chapter 2 – News flash

People listening to Radio 1, the news channel, heard a discussion about small scale farming being interrupted by the sound that introduced an extra news item. People listening to Radio 2, the music channel, were also bothered with it, as were those who had chosen to listen to a commercial broadcaster.

´This is Bernard LaSalle, bringing you an extra news item. Mr Delgana, the spokesman of the Royal House, will make a statement.´

Another voice, with a slight Pyran accent, was heard.

´Twenty minutes ago during the Audience at the Castle, an unidentified man kidnapped Her Majesty. The Royal Guard and the police are chasing him. You will be informed once there is more news.´

All over the country people said: ´_What_ did he say? What kind of sick joke is this?´

And all over the country people turned on the TV, surfed to news dot gv or switched to Radio 1, where farming was not a subject any more. The news channel's chief editor, Mr Jancovicz, now held the stage. Jancovicz's employee, Mireille Delcourt, had received a phone call from her sister Carla, who had whispered that she was at the Castle and that a tall man with a yellow shawl had left with the Queen, holding a gun to her head. He had demanded a Jeep from the Castle's garage.

Mireille had stormed into her boss's office to inform him. Jancovicz had immediately contacted Michel Delgana: ´He begged me not to reveal the news straight away and I obliged.´

Jancovicz didn't reveal that he had told Delgana that being a journalist he couldn't hide the news _very_ much longer. Nor did he say that he felt uneasy about the last remark Delgana had made: ´If something happens to Her Majesty, because _you_ now force the kidnapping to become known, I'll hold _you_ responsible. And trust me: the entire country will know.´

Journalists from several newspapers were housed in a building near radio 1's studio. Before rushing towards the Castle, some journalists stopped by to see if Jancovicz had more news.

´Ladies, gentlemen,´ the chief editor said waving a telex at the small crowd, ´this is a statement from the spokesman of the Royal Family. It says that the witnesses to the kidnapping are taken care of in the Castle. The police are blocking side roads to make sure the rescue mission will not be endangered.´

'So _that's_ why I couldn't take the Mandela Road!' a journalist exclaimed. '_That_ was what that block was about!'

´Have you tried to contact your employee's sister?´ someone from The Pyran asked Jancovicz.

It had completely slipped Jancovicz's mind that a cell phone works both ways. He sent someone to find Miss Delcourt. While everyone was waiting for the journalist to arrive, there was word that a Jeep was involved in a car accident. Jancovicz contacted Mr Delgana. His call was answered by a short-tempered assistant.

´It was not the kidnapper's Jeep!´ Jancovicz announced, still holding the phone to his ear, even though the assistant had already broken the connection.

´Thank you Michel,´ the chief editor said to his phone.

Miss Delcourt was pushed forwards.

´Mireille, call your sister!´

´Now?´

´Mais oui! Call her! See if she has more information.´

Mireille was familiar with the protocol of the Audience and she knew that it was forbidden to bring phones to the Throne Room. She also knew that Carla wasn't the sort of woman to disobey rules. She had concluded that her sister, who only used her phone in case of need, had probably forgotten that she had the thing in her bag. So if a guard would have asked her if she had a phone with her, Carla would in all honesty have said no. And either the guard would have believed her (she surely looked like someone who didn't own a mobile phone) or he would have glanced inside her bag not noticing the phone, hidden as it would have been under the stuff Carla liked to carry with her. Mireille imagined that her sister hadn't found her mobile until searching for a pastille to clear her throat.

Carla had sounded scared. _If_ she felt the need to talk to the press, it should be on _her_ conditions. And exclusively to her sibling. Mireille's thumb moved slowly over her phone's keys. Several people were glancing over her shoulders.

Albert, Daniel...Brun, Cecile...Brun, Hector...Cabbe, Lucien...Carla.

Mireille pressed the dial button.

No one spoke: every one stared at the little phone. No one knew that the next name in Miss Delcourt's phone book was Carla_ new and that the phone she was now calling laid in pieces on a shelf in Carla's bookcase. It was a good thing that she hadn't deleted the number.

She shrugged: ´I am sorry. She must have switched it off.´

OoOoOoO

Joe was proud of the way _she_ had held herself. The Queen had been worried for her subjects, who were whimpering on the floor, not for her own safety. She trusted _him_ to protect her. Logically he knew that there had been no way to stop the kidnapper from escaping with her, but the 'what-ifs' kept going through his head.

He had seen the kidnapper's eyes.

Joe was afraid.


	3. Aftermath of the Audience

Chapter 3 – Aftermath of the Audience

When the kidnapper and his hostage, followed by the Royal Guard, had left, Charlotte, like everyone present, stared at the double doors through which they had exited, her eyes wide with shock. For some ten seconds there was an eerie silence in the Throne Room. Then the Queen's lady in waiting, Viscountess Margoli, voiced that all would be well. That's when people started to cry, tremble or swear.

Charlotte liked the bedlam. It made her forget her own fear. Via her ear-piece Teballi (the second in command of security) told her that red alert script number three was operational. Charlotte then contacted her assistants to provide her with information about the script. When she'd learned what she needed to know, she clapped her hands to draw attention.

´Ladies, gentlemen, please listen carefully. My name is Charlotte Kutaway, I am the Queen's personal secretary. We all just witnessed Her Majesty being kidnapped. I CAN ASSURE YOU that the Royal Guard is fully capable of handling this. We can use your help though in catching the kidnapper.´

Charlotte looked around.

´The more we know about the kidnapper, the bettter.´

People nodded.

´We will soon start interviewing you. _Anything_ you've noticed about the kidnapper might help us to free Her Majesty.´

People nodded.

´Does anyone need medical attention? No? Should you feel unwell, please know that all footmen and guards present can provide first aid. There are chairs against the walls, please allow the elderly to sit. I will try to have more chairs brought in.'

She looked around reassuringly. People nodded. Charlotte wondered if they'd heard half of what she'd said.

'If there's anything you'd like to ask me, or Viscountess Margoli, she is the lady in the blue dress, please feel free. Thank you.´

It turned out, not surprisingly, that there were only a few questions on people's minds.

´She'll be back, won't she Missy?´ an old man asked Charlotte.

´Of course she will sir. The Royal Guard will not allow the kidnapper to hurt Her Majesty.´

A woman grabbed Charlotte's arm: ´Why didn't they just _shoot_ him?´

Charlotte had longed to hear a gun shot herself, followed by the satisfying sound of the kidnapper's body hitting the marble floor, but she had seen enough police series to know that once a shooter held someone hostage, even the most daring cop would lower his weapon.

´The risk was too high madam. If the kidnapper had made a sudden movement...´

Charlotte and the Viscountess made themselves useful by padding shoulders and acting calmly. The arrival of refreshments proved to be a nice diversion, until a nervous maid dropped a tray and started to cry. The tension in the Throne Room increased rapidly. Charlotte told a footman to have the broken china and the spilled coffee cleaned away. After contacting security she informed the anxious witnesses that the Royal Guard were still following the kidnapper. The news was greeted with cries of relief, for someone had been thinking aloud that perhaps the guards had lost sight of the Jeep. And _then_ what would happen to Queen Clarisse?

´What if he hurts her?´ someone sobbed.

´He'll want a ransom. What if he wants a billion, in half an hour?´

´How could he do that? A gun to her head? She's the Queen!´

´She was so brave!´

Charlotte walked the Viscountess to a quiet corner. She informed her about the procedure regarding the interviews, so she could leave it to the noblewoman to deal with the witnesses.

OoOoOoO

Mrs Danieli, the cook, looked at her maid Anna who had collapsed on a chair crying her eyes out.

´She will be _fine_ girl! She will be fine.´

Isabel entered the kitchen with a tray with used cups and glasses.

´They are questioning them,´ she informed her colleagues.

´Mr Romero insisted that I would use real coffee and real tea for the rehearsal. That was a few years ago. I didn't agree with him. Such a waste!´ the cook said to herself.

She noticed that people were listening (frightened servants and courtiers had sought shelter in the kitchen) and addressed red faced Anna.

´Well anyway, would you believe that I talked about it with the Queen?´

´Did you _really_ Mrs Danieli?´ Anna sniffed. She didn't understand what it was about, but the cook's chatting made her calm down.

´Yes I _did_. It was some years ago. I brought her her lunch and I asked her if she thought it was necessary to waste beverages, just for the rehearsal of a script.´

´What did she say?´

´Well, she asked what script it was.´

´And then?´ Anna asked, drying her cheeks.

´I said it was script number three. And she told me that it was a kidnap script, and she said that if she got kidnapped she probably would like a nice cup of tea herself, and she could imagine others would need it also, so it was best to execute the script to perfection.´

Anna started crying again. She wasn't the only one.

´She will be fine!´ the cook cried out.

...

...

Author's note: Do you wonder where Joe is? He will make his appearance in chapter 4.


	4. Dear hunt, part 1

Chapter 4 – Dear hunt, part 1

The spokesman had just informed the country that the Queen had been kidnapped. Joe felt the atmosphere in the car change. His men _knew_ it was for real, but the facts being stated somehow made it worse.

Joe switched off the radio.

Since the kidnapper had made it clear that he didn't want to see a car in his mirror, or else he would hurt Her Majesty, the chasers – headed by the Head of Security- stayed well behind him.

Joe made a mental note that all cars from the Royal House's car park should have a tracer installed.

He now depended on information provided by a helicopter following the car. It had a sharp shooter on board in case the kidnapper would show himself without using the Queen as a shield again.

Red alert script number three was executed smoothly. Among others it provided the emergency team with guide lines about how to respond to demands made by a kidnapper.

The man didn't play his part: he had not got in touch with them yet.

It worried Joe. He reasoned that the kidnapper would drive to a hiding place and _then_ contact the Castle.

Let him demand gold or diamonds.

Let him demand criminal friends to be released from prison.

Let him demand Genovia to step out of the European Union or the NATO.

Let him demand every pear tree to be burned.

But let him demand something, _anything_. If he didn't, he already had what he wanted.

Twenty three minutes after the chase began, the helicopter pilot reported he lost the car. Joe had expected it for the kidnapper had entered a rich pine forest.

He asked the pilot to circle the area.

The forest road took many turnings which might cause them to be suddenly confronted with the Jeep. Joe cautiously reduced speed before every winding. He didn't want the kidnapper to hurt Her Majesty.

Glimpsing a sandy road, he checked it for tyre tracks. Nothing. The second sandy road proved not to have been used recently either. The third had. Joe yelled at Vilais, the car expert, to come and have a look.

The young man couldn't make up his mind. His first thought was that the track was not a Jeep's, but what if it _was_? What if somewhere down this road Her Majesty was being restrained and saw him walk away?

´Vilais! Is it or is it not a Jeep?´

Vilais cleared his throat: ´I think not sir.´

Joe eyed him: ´Back to the cars!´

They checked two more sandy roads and lost time for the roads were not used by a Jeep either.

The emergency team had contacted Colonel Frerer of Her Majesty's Military House. Joe now got a message from the Colonel saying her team had entered the forest from the opposite direction. With only one road through the woods, they were slowly closing in on the kidnapper. He informed the Colonel of the kidnapper's threat.

Not long after the Colonel had called him, Joe hit the brakes. The Jeep was standing a little off the main road, its front side almost parked against a huge conifer. Joe ran to it, gun drawn. The guards, wearing bullet proofs vests, just like their boss, hurried after him, circling the vehicle. Just as the kidnapper had demanded, the Jeep's windows were dark: looking inside the car was impossible.

Joe had his men stand ready to open the doors and prepared himself to see his Queen held in the kidnapper's vice-like grip.

The doors were locked.

´Majesty!´

Not even the faintest knock answered Joe's cry.

´You are surrounded!´ Joe tried.

The only reply came from a bird. The guards, not at ease, feeling that the animal was mocking them, stared at their boss for guidance.

´Open that door!´ Joe ordered Vilais.

The guard used a crowbar to do so. The car proved to be empty.

Joe checked the passenger seat. No blood.

The ground was covered with old needles, branches and leaves from some foliage bushes. He couldn't find imprints of high heels.

´Spread!´ he commanded, ´Check for clues.´

And so they did.

It was Capras who cried out triumphantly: at about seventy metres into the forest something yellow was hanging from a lonely bush on an open spot.

It proved to be a shawl.

´The bastard lost it!´ Vilais spat.

Joe contacted the Colonel to inform her about the direction they were taking. He then informed the emergency team that they'd found a trace.

Sending two guards back to the cars, Joe studied a map and instructed his hunters where to go.

_Once_ did a guard yell that he'd found a ring. Joe headed towards the man's green flash light, but before he'd made five steps, the guard had to tell him that _the ring_ was just part of a rusty can.

It was getting dark rapidly.

´Here!´ Iglesias cried, 'Pink gum!' Joe hurried towards the tree that was caught in the guard's flash light.

Gum. The kidnapper had made his threat to hurt Her Majesty. Standing against the Jeep, the man had first moved his gun from the Queen's right cheekbone to the left side of her neck. He had then moved his left hand from the Queen's waist to his left coat pocket, from where it emerged holding chewing gum.

Just chewing gum. The kidnapper had smirked, the pink substance showing between his teeth.

Chewing gum. It had given Joe the shivers. But now he was glad for the kidnapper's sweet tooth.

He told his men to gather and set out new routes for them.

They continued the hunt.

Iglesias, relieved that they couldn't be far behind Her Majesty, told his boss that the kidnapper must be stupid. Leaving that gum right there!

Joe's heart skipped a beat. He returned to the tree.

´Idiota!´ Joe cursed, after touching the gum. He kicked the tree: ´It's too old! We must go ba-´

He received a call. Listening, he kicked the tree once more.

´Understood. We'll catch up.´

Joe cursed again and walked back as fast as he could, barking at his men to follow him.

´Sir?´ a brave guard asked.

´Colonel Frerer has arrived. A sleuth-hound has indicated that Her Majesty was taken into the opposite direction from where we are.´

Capras paled.

A soldier was waiting for them near the cars. The Colonel and the rest of her men were following the Queen's track.

The soldier checked his palmtop for the coordinates of the leading team.

Off the chasers went, as speedily as the forest allowed them.

After some time the soldier informed Joe that the Colonel's team didn't move any more.

Not long afterwards they saw lights.


	5. Focus on Pyrus

Chapter 5 - Focus on Pyrus

After Mr Delgana had made his statement, the journalists were at first not able to do more than repeatedly state that the Queen had been kidnapped, by a male, who had left in a Jeep and was being chased by the Royal Guard. Even professionals need to recover from shock.

The journalists who'd rushed to the Castle's main gate gratefully interviewed an elderly couple who had been at the Audience long before the kidnapper had drawn his gun. Still being in town, and hearing about the drama, they'd walked back to the Castle for their five minutes of fame. The Throne Room was very impressive, they confided. And the Queen was graceful as always.

´Was there a sign that something might happen?´ a reporter asked.

The woman shrugged, her husband shook his head.

´Can you inform us about the security regulations?´ another journalist wanted to know.

´A guard searched my bag, but very politely, not the way they do on airports these days.´

´There were guards everywhere,´ the man added.

´I didn't see that many Omer,´ the woman objected.

´All those men with ear-plugs, they were all _guards_ Cecile.´

´He knows you know,´ the woman told the journalists, ´he watches every police series.´

The reporters tried to get detailed information about the security level. The man couldn't provide what they wanted, but the TV channels at least got their footage.

OoOoOoO

With the road blocks serving as land marks, it wasn't hard to figure out that the kidnapper was heading for the Spanish border. And it soon became clear that the police were preventing journalists and others from following the Jeep.

The live reportings of the encounters between the arm of the law and the fighters for free speech, were eagerly listened to by the entire country. Every Genovian hoped so hard that the Queen would be all right, it just _had_ to come true.

OoOoOoO

The upcoming 'release' of the witnesses was brought as a main news feature. Once they left the Castle's grounds, the witnesses were ambushed by journalists.

´This is Audrey Bonne live from Pyrus. Behind me you see the Royal Castle, from where Her Majesty was kidnapped almost an hour ago. Standing with me is Daniel Leclerc. Monsieur Leclerc, you were present in the Throne Room when the Queen was held hostage?´

´I was. Yes I was. I was just... I wanted to tell Her Majesty about our village, and then... There were three people in front of me and a little boy who'd come with his mum had given the Queen some flowers and then a t- tall man stepped forward. I was ge- getting a bit nervous 'cause it was almost my turn to speak to the Queen, and I didn't pay cl- close attention, but all of the sudden, that man had grabbed the Queen and held a g- gun to her head!´

´It must have been shocking Monsieur! What happened next?´

´This bold man in black aimed his gun at the kidnapper, and sh- shouted that he should release Her Majesty. But the kid- napper laughed and said that he wanted a Jeep from the Castle´s garage, with a fil-led tank and d- d- dark windows. He left the throne room holding Queen Cla-risse against him and the guards fo- fo- followed them.´

The man blinked and was unable to say more. The camera switched to six year old Emile Neige, the boy who had given the Queen flowers.

´Hello Emile! You have seen the Queen today, haven't you? And you gave her some flowers didn't you?´

The boy, biting his lower lip, merely nodded.

´So, did you speak to the man behind your mummy and yourself? In the queue?´

The boy shook his head.

´You didn't have a look at him?´

The boy shook his head. Just before Mrs Bonne spoke again, Emile opened his mouth.

´I saw the Queen!´

´Yes you did didn't you?´

´She's beautiful.´

´Ah! Aren't you a little charmer! Madame Neige, did _you_ speak to the kidnapper?´

´No I didn't, I don't think he spoke to anyone.´

´Did he make any demands?´

´Well, we'd already left, so I don't know about that.´

´We were walking in the Castle but we couldn't leave,´ Emile shared. ´I got lemonade.´

Madame Bonne ignored the boy and addressed his mother again.

'How did he look like?'

'He was very tall. He was wearing dark clothes. Black I think. His hair was brown. He wore a yellow shawl.'

Audrey Bonne had not found anyone who'd spoken to the kidnapper, but Anatole de Mouy, her colleague from RTL2 _had_.

'Madame Paré, you must be the only person who talked to the kidnapper.'

A freckled woman wearing glasses nodded enthusiasticly and, looking straight in the camera, started to talk.

'We were waiting to be brought to the Throne Room and he was standing in the corridor, with the rest of us. And I thought, why not say something. I mean, we were waiting you know. So, I said that he, like myself, wasn't in a hurry, for he'd not opted for admittance in the first round either and that it was such a grey day and that a nice sunny day is always nice.'

Madame Paré faced De Mouy.

'And then he smiled at me. And it was a very _creepy_ smile. I told the guard who interviewed me the same. I did. A _very_ creepy smile. The kidnapper walked away from me. No reply, nothing. He just walked away.'

She was silent for a moment.

'How did the kidnapper look like Madame Paré?'

'He was tall. Dark haired. Dark blue clothes that matched his eyes. He wore a yellow shawl.´

´How did the Queen react?´

´As if she was going for a walk in the garden. She assured us that everything would be fine...'

OoOoOoO

Red alert script number three was a triumph of detailed thinking and executing it had kept the members of the 'E-team' occupied for a while. When things were set in motion, the only one with a task at hand was Mr Delgana. The spokesman made his statements, and was informed by his aids about everything kidnap-related that was reported by the media. His colleagues felt lost. They watched television and glanced at the chair where Her Majesty normally sat, telling each other all would be well.

´He will find her,´ Charlotte said aloud. She was absolutely sure. Joe would climb a mountain with his bare hands if that was what it took to rescue his employer. What wouldn't he do to free the woman he loved? Ever since she'd seen Her Majesty and Joe dance in San Fran -

´Amelia!´ Charlotte cried out. ´She hasn't been informed yet.´ She grabbed the remote control of the flat screen TV on the wall and switched to CNN.

´Damn it!´ she exclaimed seeing that the kidnap was breaking news. Behind the host a photo of the Queen in a peach coloured evening gown was shown.

´The princess will be at school now, she probably doesn't know it yet,´ Mr Tally tried to calm the Queen's secretary. Charlotte didn't hear him and searched for the princess's phone number in the script. Using the phone that would not be used by the Head of Security, she called the girl. After half a minute she broke the connection and made another call.

´Helen? It's Charlotte Kutaway, Queen Clarisse's aid? I tried to contact Amelia but her phone is off, could you inform her if she doesn't know already, I mean it's on CNN so maybe she knows and I forgot her, I am sorry.´ She listened for a while.

From her next line the other members of the emergency team figured that the princess's mother had turned her TV on.

´Yes, about an hour ago. But Joe will free her. Tell Amelia will you? He _will_ free her. Please tell Amelia that I tried to contact her?´

After Charlotte ended the conversation, Mr Tally told her that it was not appropriate to use the future Queen of Genovia's first name.

Charlotte replied that they _had_ a Queen and could he please shut up?

Mr Tally started to explain that he wasn't anticipating on the conclusion of today's events, and Charlotte was very much in the mood to scold him, or anyone for that matter, when she realised: ´Mia's guards! Do they know?´

´They do, I contacted them,´ Teballi replied. He hoped the Prime Minister would soon join them, to calm the Queen's aid.

´Why didn't you contact the princess as well?´ Charlotte demanded.

´It wasn't on _my_ check-list,´ Teballi defended himself, ´I told my men to prevent journalists from talking to her, just as the instructions read.´

Mr Delgana, who had been surfing the internet on his laptop, told them that royalhouse dot gv was down, as was news dot gv.

´The nerds are getting our site back on line using the other server or so. If it doesn't work, everyone will get their information from genoviadaily dot gv and the likes. If only that fool Jancovicz had not forced me to reveal the kidnap...´

Mr Delgana's index fingers were making their way over his keyboard.

´We should have kept the witnesses inside, for no one would complain about it, well, except they themselves perhaps, but who cares?´

No one bothered to reply him.

´Just think of people starting to attack tall men with yellow shawls! What a mess. I sincerely hope the guards will not overpower the kidnapper on some village square in front of the locals. That really wouldn't do,´ Mr Delgana continued.

´Oh _please_!´ Charlotte replied. ´Do you _really_ think that there's _anyone_ who _wouldn't_ be happy when that _bastard_ gets _shot_?´

Mr Delgana opened his mouth to ask the Queen's aid if _she_ had a masters in communication.

The phone rang. Teballi put it on the speaker.

´Still chasing,´ came Joe's voice. ´Romero out.´

And with that the connection was broken.

...

...

Author's note: Do you wonder how the Queen is doing? The coming chapter will reveal it.


	6. Moments to forget, part 1

Chapter 6 – Moments to forget, part 1

After entering his hiding place, the kidnapper left the Queen in a pitch-dark room. After a few minutes its door was unlocked.

´Dinner is served milady,´ the man said. He stepped inside and dragged her with him, closing the door behind him.

´I apologize for the reception but I had to get changed, don't you just hate wet pants? And I had to turn on the lights, and prepare dinner, a host needs to take care of his guest, wouldn't you agree?´

He made her sit on a picnic rug. Opposite each other two glasses, filled with water, were placed. Two plates carried rice that was partly covered by something unidentifiable. The food was cold.

´Bon appetit,´ the kidnapper smiled before he started to eat.

_What does the idiot think he is doing? Playing house?_ she thought.

´What is it cherie, can't you handle chopsticks?´

Her looked at her appreciatively. She was kidnapped, her green skirt and coat had gathered stains, and her upper arm was very likely bruised (the darling had tried to escape), but she sat there as graciously as she'd sat on her throne.

´There's fire in your eyes ma cherie,´ he informed her.

When he swallowed his last chopstick full, she started to talk.

´Did you plan this alone?´

He nodded: ´Yes I did. Rather nice here ain't it.´

´I don't recall people building in hills in this area.´

´You're kidnapped ma cherie. Completely at my disposal.´

´So you did all this _alone_. Making preparations, planning the escape from the Castle, setting out a route to get here, finding this hiding place,´ she slowly said.

The man grinned: ´A Castle just for you and me. And food just for you and me. Why don't you try it?´

´I am not hungry.´

´Well, _I_ was. I need energy to _perform_.´

´My appetite is ruined by recent events.´

The man was amused. If he wouldn't know better he'd guess she was chatting with a gentleman in the Castle. Part of him wanted to drag her to the bedroom, her beautiful voice speaking to him alone turning him on, but playing cat and mouse was like foreplay, so he answered her.

´I can imagine ma cherie. You must be really pissed, oh, I'm sorry, _angry_, because your security let you go and lost track of you.´

´Is that what you think? I wouldn't be sure of that if I were you.´

He grinned.

´They will find me,´ she continued.

´They won't. It's dark and this long forgotten bunker is part of the hill. Besides, I created some diversions. I'm smarter than your people are.´

´My Head of Security is determined to free me.´

He smirked: ´I can imagine. If he doesn't succeed he will be given to the angry mob and torn to pieces. I suppose he's the bold bloke?´

´You suppose correctly.´

He laughed: ´He looked like a mean bastard.´

´Trust me, he _will_ be. Now tell me, why did you kidnap me? What is it that you want?´

´I already have what I want.´

´Your face all over the news?´

He shook his head and pointed at _her_. There was a look in his eyes that made her stomach turn around. She looked behind her -which earned her a chuckle- pretending to study the room to see what he could _possibly_ be referring to. There was not much to look at. Next to a folding camping stool, there was a large back-pack. The room was lit by electric torches, hanging from the ceiling by ropes. The scent of the old earth floor overwhelmed that of the food on her melamine plate.

´What do you think of the lightning plan? There's no electricity here, so I had to improvise. If I say so myself, it's rather theatrical, wouldn't you agree?´

´Absolutely. If I say so myself, I would rather not be in this play.´

He sniggered. She focused on the one decoration the oddly lit room could boast of.

´That is an Escher calender,´ she remarked as she walked towards the wall where the calender hung. She felt dizzy. As her eyes followed the lines of the white town on this month's drawing, she told herself to be calm.

´What does today say?´ he demanded, suddenly standing closely behind her.

The thrusted out balcony on the drawing seemed to cry 'exit'. She glanced at her watch before reading aloud the calender's information. At this distance she didn't need her glasses.

´Seventeen hundred ninety-five birth of Jean Charles Cohen, Pyran philoso-´

´DON'T PUSH IT! What does it say in _red_?´

She inhaled before answering: ´Mine.´

´Mine,´ he softly repeated. Bending his mouth to her ear, he whispered the word again.

She felt him against her and it made her want to cry.

_Be calm!_ _Act like a Queen!_ Cool Clarisse knocked down Panicking Clarisse.

´What exactly do you mean?´

´Can't you _feel_ what I mean ma cherie?´

´Do you realise that I am old enough to be your mother?´ she tried to make him change his mind.

´I'd naturally never screw my mother. Besides, she's fat, she smells after cigarettes and wears bag-like clothes.´

´That is no way to talk about your mother.´

´She can't hear me and I very much doubt you're gonna tell her.´

He inhaled her scent.

´You smell lovely. And that is just your neck.´

He caressed her shoulders. She shrugged him off, but he didn't care.

´Now, I am sure you wouldn't mind watching every page of the fucking calender, but let's set things in motion. I'll show you other pictures. Come along!´

Grabbing her elbow he escorted her to a dark corner of the room. He switched on his flash light to show her a door.

´What do you think?´

_Joseph, where _are _you? _

´It is a perfectly fine door. Judging from the ironwork I would say it is a least half a century old. Solid wood, I would guess. It must be heavy.´

The kidnapper trailed his fingers over one of the many pictures of his Queen dressed in evening dresses and ball-gowns that were pinned against the door.

'And here you are...' the man shook his head in wonder.

He walked her to the door behind which she'd been locked and opened it again. ´Store-room. Say something.´

His light moved over a shelf. She saw cans with food, bottles with water and rope.

´I love rope,´ the kidnapper shared.

_Stay calm. Act like a Queen._

The captor moved the light to reveal a plastic bag filled with apples, grey toilet-paper, boxes with candles, a bottle of champagne. High against the wall hung a spade with a bow attached to the handle.

_Stay calm. Act like a Queen._

´But I am sorry,' the man continued, 'I am sure you were going to say something about all this.´

´Excuse me? What on earth is there to be said about a store-room? I am hardly an estate agent am I? If I _were_, I would have opened the door with a grand gesture, announce it to be _the store-room_ and – being an estate agent- I would say that this musty hole could easily be turned into a beautiful study.´

He smiled at her.

´There is one more room for you to see,´ he blabbed. ´Can you guess what room that is?´

´There is only one option. Judging from the utter lack of books in _the living-room_, I have no doubt whatsoever that the room you are referring to is the library.´

_The longer the lines, the more time for my men to find me,_ she thought. _Seconds are not going to help us, _Panicking Clarisse moaned.

The creep chuckled. She told herself that upon her return to the Castle, for Joseph _would_ rescue her, she would forbid chuckling.

The kidnapper entered another room, pulling her with him.

´I'm not much of a reader,´ he confessed.

He gestured towards a bed: ´I _act_.´


	7. Dear hunt, part 2

Chapter 7 – Dear hunt, part 2

The reason why the Colonel's team had stopped moving soon became clear to Joe: a five metres wide stream had stopped the sleuth-hound in her track. The dog master was having her walking up and down the side where the Queen had been taken into the water, to make sure that the kidnapper had not left the stream on the same bank. The soldiers were looking for clues on both sides of the water.

Joe found the Colonel studying an ordnance map.

'Mr Romero.'

'Colonel.'

'Has he made demands yet?'

Joe shook his head.

´There are no houses in this area,´ the Colonel informed him. ´South south east there are six bunkers, part of the King Louis III line.´

She showed him where the shelters were located. ´They have not been used in over seventy years and the roads once connecting them don't exist any more. On regular maps the line is not mentioned. Still, it is the only logical place to hide and the kidnapper _is_ heading in that direction. I've ordered team two to go to bunker I. ´

Joe agreed with the Colonel's reasoning. If they wouldn't find something soon, they'd head for the nearest bunker. They crossed the stream.

´My men are to obey your orders unless I contradict them,´ the Colonel told him.

´Understood,´ he replied.

Switching his flash light left and right, he walked away from the water. He didn't want to think about the time they'd lost already. He barely noticed the cold wind, the sounds around him, the fact that his legs from his knees down were wet. He. Had. To. Find. Her.

Looking for imprints of high heels, he saw proof of life in the forest. Branches that hadn't survived a storm, brown, unattractive fungi, half a bird. Yellow flowers, lying on a bed of needles.

´Here!´ he summoned the dog master.

´A child gave them to her,´ he told the Colonel, who'd hurried toward him.

The dog's reaction confirmed that the Queen had held the flowers. Joe had never been so relieved in his life. His fellow hunters got new hope. Joe contacted the team at the Castle to tell them they were still chasing. The dog pulled at her belt, anxious to follow the scent and indifferent for what she would find at the end of the track.

Still heading south south east, the sleuth-hound lead the men for several hundreds of metres. She walked with her nose against the ground. The fact that she couldn't sniff and _run_, frustrated everyone. They realised that the kidnapper would have found his way to wherever he was heading much faster, even when dragging the Queen with him.

The stream they'd crossed made many turnings and eventually stopped them again. The dog, at Joe's suggestion, was commanded to swim across the water. No matter the encouraging glances every human gave her, she was not able to find a trace.

Everyone was anxious to find yellow flowers, but they saw none.

_It takes too long,_ Joe thought. Sharing a look with the Colonel, he ordered to head towards bunker VI. On approaching it they saw a weak bundle of light. Joe informed the men that he and the Colonel would enter the bunker. The Colonel didn't ask questions. While the Head of Security gave orders to guards and soldiers alike, she checked the bunker's floor map and readied her Heckler&Koch.

OoOoOoO

It didn't prove difficult to open the door and they carefully made it through the dark building, checking all rooms. They found the smell of rotting, a family of mice and a secured electric torch, that just happened to shine through a little hole in the wall.

Joe growled. ´Why all this? If he holds a gun to her head, he knows his demands will be met.´

´He might not have de-´

´I know.´

Joe was silent for a moment. Should he tell the Colonel that the kidnapper had caressed the Queen's waist with his dumb, when holding her in front of the Jeep?

´Same procedure for the next -´ the officer started.

´Yes,´ Joe confirmed. He'd probably just imagined it.

OoOoOoO

The dog had continued to try to pick up a scent while Joe and the Colonel had been searching the bunker, but without success. Joe commanded two of his men and an army sharp shooter to search the area and to prevent non-authorised people from following them. He and the rest of the rescue squad made it for bunker V.

A team of marines was about to enter bunker I (several kilometres away) and the Colonel followed the operation via her ear-piece.

Joe wanted to find his Queen himself, for no matter how majestic she had acted with a gun held to her head, Joe knew she'd feel vulnerable now. If she had been crying, her tear-stained face must not be exposed to her subjects. Bunker I turned out to be clear, but for a burning flash light in one of the rooms. The marines hurried towards bunker II.

The grounds between bunkers VI and V were flat. Joe's men shouldn´t need a lot of time to cross it.

...

...

Author's note: the coming chapter will continue where we've left the Queen and the kidnapper.


	8. Moments to forget, part 2

Chapter 8 – Moments to forget, part 2

The kidnapper closed the bedroom door.

´Let's get your coat off, shall we.´

He started pulling at it.

´Leave me alone,´ the Queen ordered.

All of the sudden he held a pocket-knife against her neck.

´I am _so_ sorry. I forgot my manners. Please allow me to take your coat.´

She didn't move. The kidnapper chuckled and -with some difficulty- he single handedly removed her coat.

She registered that they were in what must have been the bunker's dormitory. As far as she could see (there was only one flash light burning, on a long rope to her left) it was empty, save for...

The kidnapper tossed her coat aside and put his knife in his pocket. Pulling her towards him, her back against his front side, he wrapped his arms around her upper body.

´My fair powerless Queen,´ he whispered.

She felt his warm breath and his lips on her neck. Cool Clarisse ran out of lines.

Still holding her, he pushed her towards the bed. When he reached out a hand to switch on a second flash light, she took her chance and stepped on his sock-clad foot, at the same time placing an elbow in his abdomen. He cried out and released her. She went for the door. He pulled her backwards and hit her, which made her fall on the bed. She didn't waste time contemplating the pain he'd caused and tried to roll over the bed, away from him.

He dived on top of her, then seated himself on her upper legs, his knees next to her waist. He chuckled when she demanded that he'd get off her. He laughed when she tried to kick him off and he simply grabbed her hands before she had a chance to punch him twice. He moved her arms above her head, then held her wrists with one hand.

The bed merely consisted of three inflatable mattresses. They were kept together by bands, three of them holding the bottom and middle mattresses together, two others including the top mattress also. The bands were not visible, for the mattresses were covered with purple satin sheets. Attached to the band at the head of the middle mattress was a rope. The kidnapper reached over his royal hostage to grab it.

´I always wanted to do this,´ he said with a wink.

She tilted her head to see what he meant: ´Forget it!´

She planned to kick her knees against his behind, but he felt her intention and painfully pressed _his_ knees against her sides. She didn't give up fighting and it wasn't until he'd punched her on her stomach, that he managed to tie her wrists to the rope. After getting off the bed, he placed a hand on her right ankle. Her free high heeled foot aimed for his arm, but he quickly withdrew it and placed a knee on her shins. He took off his leather belt and fastened it around her ankles.

´Now where was I?´

Kneeling by the bed side, facing the door, he slowly moved his hands from her feet upwards.

´Silk stockings. Lovely.´

He caressed her knees.

´Don't tremble ma cherie,´ he softly said.

_Joseph come quickly! _

She concentrated on breathing deeply.

_What you need Clarisse, is a diversion._

She tilted her head to look at the wall behind her. He saw her hopeful gaze.

´What?´

´Nothing,´ she replied, not sounding convincing at all, as she very well knew.

´You heard something...´

He closed his eyes and listened intently. Casually resting his left arm along hers, he then bent over to her ear.

´I don't hear a thing. They will _not_ find you ma cherie,´ he whispered.

His right hand hovered above her breasts. He swallowed, rose and stepped back.

´But _I_ heard something,´ she tried, ´it was not just the wind.´

He didn't reply for he was too distracted by the sight she offered. On her throne she had been regal, with an aura that had drawn people to her. Now, tied to the bed, with red marks on her sweet face and her silk blouse showing what candy she had underneath, she still looked majestic. And bloody sexy. He took off his cashmere sweater.

_Joseph hurry! Blow his brain against the wall!_

The kidnapper bent over to remove his socks, when he cursed and left the room. Seizing the opportunity, the Queen placed her heels on the bed and pushed herself to the head of the mattress. Rolling over to her left side, she pulled at the rope.

_In films there is always a sharp object conveniently near. _

She found that the rope was tightly attached at its other end also. Her lower legs were not supported by the mattress any more (her knees lying on the bed's edge) and she wriggled her ankles to try to remove the belt.

_In real life you stay tied._

Maybe she _had_ made him believe there was someone out there. She pictured the creep opening the door, to be noticed by Joseph, heading the search party.

A single shot was all it would take and then Joseph would rush in to free her.

Panicking Clarisse threatened to speak, and she shut her up by wondering what could be found in the room the kidnapper hadn't shown her. Cobwebs probably. If only the creep would miss his footing and break his neck.

If she'd _then_ have to wait to be freed, she wouldn't mind, even though it was chilly and her wrists, arms, ankles and neck already hurt. Anything was better than -

She stopped pulling at the rope. There _had_ to be some other way to get rid of it. At least the belt was getting less tight. The door was thrown open.

_Joseph!_

She looked over her shoulder.

´Disappointed to see _me_? You had expected your Head of Security had you not ma cherie?´

_He _will _come. Soon._

´Didn't I already tell you that I am smarter than he is?´ the man continued.

He had brought the champagne with him. And a flute. After placing them on the floor, he grabbed the belt around her ankles and dropped her feet on the bed.

´But they _are_ out there, I heard something.´

He tossed his knife on the bed.

´There's no one. It is just you and me Clarisse,´ he said, taking off his socks.

´_Don't_ call me by my name.´

He grinned and took off his holster. And jeans. He sighed with relief. He didn't wear underwear. She looked away, to the door. The kidnapper chuckled.

´How many Genovians are allowed to call you Clarisse?´ he asked.

Looking at her face, he pulled up her skirt (that was a little worked up by her movements during his brief absence) until it rested around her hips.

´How many?´ he repeated, placing a hand on her left cheek to make her look at him.

She held his gaze.

_JOSEPH! Where _are _you? _

´The present Prime Minister, Sebastian Motaz, and Michael Guyenne, the archbishop of Pyrus, that makes two,´ she slowly lied.

´Two?´ he echoed. He pointed at himself: ´Three.´

´Two,´ she insisted, feeling nauseous.

He smiled and cupped her breasts. It made him moan. When his lust-filled eyes travelled down and he noticed that his Queen was wearing garters, he swallowed hard. He seated himself on the bed, roughly bent her legs, and removed the belt. She tried to kick him, but it was in vain. He manoeuvred himself between her legs and smiled with delight when he finally allowed himself to look at her undergarments. Black with pale green embroideries.

He took his knife and carefully cut one side of her panties.

Smiling at her, and nodding in answer to her shaking her head, he pulled her buttocks on his knees and positioned himself.

She still had fire in her eyes. And he would make her his.

´It must have been some years since you made love,´ he remarked, a hand on her left breast, ´If I were a gentleman, I would be tender our first time.´

He pinched a nipple.

She stifled a cry.

´And that is your way of _confirming_ you are not a gentleman?´ she said in a trembling voice.

He grinned: she was delightful.

He single handedly unbuttoned the top of her blouse.

´You're gorgeous Clarisse. You will give me so much... pleasure.´


	9. Waiting's end

Chapter 9 – Waiting's end

The Prime Minister joined the meeting of the emergency team after having spoken to the Chairman of Parliament as well as the leaders of the political parties. He found the members of the team as tense as the Parliamentarians.

After running through a check-list (again) the team members found that there really wasn't anything they could do at the moment.

´Why hasn't he made demands yet?´ Mr Tally complained, not for the first time. He was the negotiator.

´Maybe he got hurt,´ Charlotte suggested, ´and the Queen escaped and is now wandering through the forest.´

Charlotte pictured Her Majesty to find a small house with non-refined though honest and kind country people who were right now making her tea. It made her smile which angered Mr Tally.

´What is so _funny_ about Her Majesty being lost in the woods?´

Charlotte felt obliged to tell about her fantasy.

´I very much wish that were so Miss Kutaway,´ the Prime Minister kindly said.

Just like their countrymen, the members of the emergency team watched TV. The journalists had made amends for their feeble start. All Genovian TV channels now offered 'background information' about the kidnapping. Mr Delgana grabbed the remote control to press the volume button. A French analyst was explaining what the political consequences would be should the Genovian Queen not return.

´SHE WILL RETURN!´

Charlotte's outburst startled everyone.

´Yes my dear,´ the Prime Minister told her, ´she will.´

Her Majesty's aid angrily pushed her chair backwards, to prevent the Prime Minister from padding her arm, and walked to a window. She didn't hear a single word the Frenchman said, even though he continued his analysis for another minute. She thought about the call she'd received from princess Mia, who had been informed about the kidnapping by her principal. She had reassured the crying girl that Joe _would_ find the Queen her grandmother. She had believed what she said. Of course she had. It was just that she had thought that after Joe had told them he'd found a trace, it wouldn't take him more than five minutes to save their beloved liege. She cursed herself for being so naïve.

Something the Prime Minister said (Parliament...carte blanche...negotiating) aroused Charlotte's interest.

´I would say so!´ she commented.

´It _is_ good to hear that, Mr Motaz,´ Mr Tally said, ´but why hasn't the kidnapper contacted us? If he would make demands, it would make things easier. He must want _something_. What could it be? Why hasn't he contacted us yet?´

´Are you going to repeat that every five minutes Mr Tally?´

´Really Miss Kutaway, I don't think you're handling this situation very - ´

´Very what? Is it bad to show emotion? Our Queen is kidnapped and Joe – Oh! We need tea!´

OoOoOoO

The phone in the kitchen rang. Every servant and courtier stared at the object as if it were a monster. The cook trembled when she answered it. Her colleagues saw her nod, but she neither smiled nor fainted, so they figured there was no news. Still, the question had to be asked.

´Any intelligence yet Mrs Danieli?´

´No Lord Radras.´

The cook started fussing about.

´They want their tea.´

´Now? I don't understand how they can eat,´ Isabel said disapprovingly.

´They should keep their minds focused, shouldn't they?´ Lord Radras lectured, ´After all, _they_ must make sure that Her Majesty returns.´

´The Head of Security will do that.´

´He _is_ part of the emergency team, young lady,´ His Lordship replied. He didn't notice the face Isabel made and continued: ´Anyhow, it is important to eat and drink, to stay focused.´

The television showed hundreds of Genovians who were waiting outside the Castle's gates. Some had burning candles with them.

´For heaven's sake,´ Viscountess Margoli said, ´as if she is d- ´

Lord Radras grabbing her hand prevented her from finishing her line. Someone started to cry. Mrs Danieli switched to another channel, but that didn't prove a success: a former police negotiator was explaining that when no demands were made, it _could_ imply that the kidnapper's means of communication were failing, which might anger him and that anger could be taken out on -

Mrs Danieli switched back to the previous channel, which now showed a man who looked like doctor Siegfried from 'All creatures great and small'. Everyone relaxed.

The man spoke calmly and with authority and said what the viewers wanted to hear: the Queen was alive and unharmed. When he had to stop talking to breathe, the interviewer asked him who his source was. The man replied that he had special contacts. The journalist wanted to know if the contacts could be found at the Castle. The man smiled and admitted that in a way that was true.

´Who could he mean?´ the Viscountess wondered, ´Is there a tell-tale in the emergency team?´

´Maybe the kidnapper has an accomplice here?´ Mrs Fabrice, the housekeeper, suggested.

Almost everyone got involved in the heated discussion that followed. Lord Radras was one of few who tried to listen to Dr Siegfried's verbose explanation.

´Stop it!´ he cried out a while later on.

His commanding tone made people shut up.

´It's a clairvoyant!´ the nobleman said with disgust, ´His sources are King Rupert and prince Philippe. Merde! They should have prevented that idiot from speaking.´

He picked up the remote control and switched to another channel. The pale faced leader of the liberal party tried to calm the nation by repeating the statement that was previously made by the Chairman of Parliament: everything would be done to meet the kidnapper's demands.

´I think that's a really stupid thing to say,´ a gardener commented. He quickly explained himself.

´What if he wants like... A, right? And now he hears that he can get _anything_? Then he will make impossible demands like... I want... I don't know, something stupid, like...´

´Every rose bush in Genovia,´ a fellow gardener suggested.

´Yeah, that _is_ really stupid Claude. But say, OK, every rose bush from every garden should be brought to the Grand Square in Pyrus within three hours. Can't do that can you? Or like he wants to become Prime Minister. Or -´

´I am sure the replies the MPs give to the press are just what they should be,´ Lord Radras judged.

In the silence that followed, the water started to boil. Mrs Danieli prepared a tray. Without thinking she placed cookies on it, muffins, china, sugar, a pair of scissors, and some kiwi fruits. Isabel raised her eyebrows. When her boss turned around she replaced the fruits with the heavy tea-pot and removed the scissors.

The cook left, to return after a minute or so. A heated discussion about whether or not information was kept from the press stopped. Everyone watched the cook place the tray on the sink, and add tea to the pot. Mrs Danieli rested her hands on the sink and composed herself.

´Mrs D,´ Isabel softly asked, ´could you ask them if there's news?´

´Of course dear. Of course.´

´Just in case they're not telling everything to the press any more.´

´Of course dear. Of course.´

When the door fell close behind the cook, no one spoke.

The TV showed how a camera man and a journalist, who had made it into the now famous forest near the Spanish border (the circling helicopter and the lack of road blocks south of the forest had made people wonder), were stopped by a guard. Everyone recognised Dilson, but seeing a colleague on TV didn't evoke reactions. The journalist told Dilson that she had the right to walk wherever she wanted and Dilson replied that she had no right to bring harm to the rescue mission. When the journalist protested again, the guard damaged the camera and the screen turned black. After a few seconds it showed another journalist giving a summary of the way the foreign media covered the kidnap.

OoOoOoO

Mrs Danieli found the members of the emergency team awfully quiet. She placed a cup and saucer in front of each, and got a 'thank you' in reply from Mr Motaz. The others seemed too focused on the television to heed her. The cook felt faint. She didn't give in to it and addressed the Prime Minister: ´Sir, if I may, is there any news yet?´

´No Mrs Danieli, there is no news. But just like you and everyone else at the Castle, I have fullest confidence that the Head of Security will find Her Majesty. After all, it has only been...´

He pulled out his watch as if he hadn't checked it a few minutes earlier.

The phone rang. Mrs Danieli jumped backwards and held her hand to her heart. Mr Tally, Teballi and Charlotte all reached for the phone. The secretary grabbed hold of it. Mr Tally activated the speaker.

The Head of Security's gruffed voice came through: ´We've got her. Rome-´

´Joe! Joe! Is she a- alive?´

´Yes.´

The connection was broken.

´She's all right!´ Charlotte cried and she kissed the phone.

Mr Motaz jumped to his feet and hugged the smiling and crying Mrs Danieli, while Mr Tally hid his head in his hands, repeatedly whispering: ´Thank goodness´.

Mr Delgana just sat there, a huge grin on his face, even when Teballi hit his shoulders and shouted: ´I knew he'd do it! I knew it! He did it! I knew it! He saved her!´


	10. Home sweet home

Chapter 10 – Home sweet home

´She's coming! She's coming!´

A police car headed a line of cars. The closer the vehicles got to the Castle's main gate, the more people were waiting and the louder the applause and cheers became.

´Long live the Queen!´

One of the cars was escorted by policemen on motor cycles and the happy bystanders threw flowers on that car and waved at it, even though the windows -like those of the other vehicles - were dark. But at least Her Majesty could see _them_.

´Hurrah!´

When the flower covered car stopped because someone ran to the middle of the road to make a picture, people moved in closer. The police car and the car following it had already made it past the gate, but the guards who stepped out of the other cars and the police men among the crowd didn't need help. Everyone was just smiling and clapping. The guards ('Well done men!', 'Thanks guys!', ´You're great!´) asked people to move back, so they could bring the Queen ('Long live the Queen! Hurrah! Hurrah!') home.

OoOoOoO

By the time the train had started to move again, the two front cars had already reached the Castle's main entrance. The police car rode towards the garage. The other car stopped.

Colonel Frerer stepped out of it, after telling Joe, who sat in the rear seat, that she would first check the hall.

She suggested the doormen to have a break in the kitchen. They hurried away. In the hall the Colonel found the Prime Minister and Charlotte waiting.

´Where is she?´ they spoke as one.

´Her Majesty is waiting in the car. I see that the hall is cleared?´

Charlotte nodded. ´And the route to her suite as well, just as you ordered. Even of security personnel.´

´The doctor is in the Queen's apartment?´

Charlotte confirmed it.

´I would like both of you to leave please.´

´But...´ Charlotte protested.

´Her Majesty must be tired,´ Mr Motaz reasoned.

´She prefers not to see anyone right now,´ the Colonel replied.

The Prime Minister could imagine that. He gestured the Queen's aid to follow him. After the unwelcome duo had left the hall, the Colonel contacted Teballi and ordered him to switch off all cameras on the route from the hall to the Queen's suite. She went outside again. When she was sure that no one was watching, she knocked on the car's right side passenger window, opening the door a little to tell Joe that the coast was clear.

´Is she asleep?´

Joe, holding his Queen in his arms, nodded.

´Can you carry her alone?´

He nodded again.

OoOoOoO

Charlotte told herself that it was perfectly normal that Her Majesty was very tired and not in the mood to see anyone. Maybe she had been crying, mascara on her cheeks? Exhausted, make-up in disorder. Or mud on her clothes?

The secretary could just imagine that Her Majesty wouldn't want anyone to see her less than perfectly groomed and it made her smile fondly. She told the Prime Minister that she was going to the kitchen. He declined her invitation to join her and left the Castle via a side-entrance.

OoOoOoO

The kitchen was crowded with happy people watching the spokesman on TV. When they heard him declare that Her Majesty had returned to the Castle, they cheered as loud and merry as they had done upon first hearing that she was freed.

When Mr Delgana revealed that the kidnapper had been killed by the Head of Security, there was a thunderous applause.

The only tears shed now were tears of joy. They toasted Her Majesty, the Head of Security, the Colonel and all those who had been involved in freeing the Queen.

Everyone hoped that the Colonel, or perhaps even the Head of Security would walk in and when the former entered the kitchen, Charlotte, holding a glass of wine, eagerly asked how the Queen was doing. The applause and happy cries that had greeted the Colonel's entrance, stopped immediately.

´Her Majesty was relieved to be home.´

It was exactly what the spokesman had said, but no one minded to hear it from the Colonel's lips as well. After all, _she_ had seen the Queen.

´So she's all right?´ Charlotte urged.

´She is asleep now.´

The Colonel declined the glass of champagne Lord Radras offered her. He was in too good a mood and too much in awe for the officer to mind it. He inclined his head and drank the bubbly substance himself.

´The doctor assured me she will be fine,´ the Colonel added.

´The doctor?´ Viscountess Margoli dared ask. Charlotte took another sip of wine.

Colonel Frerer's answer was awaited by all.

´Her Majesty has a cut on her ankle. She also has a concussion.´

When seeing the looks on the faces surrounding her, she repeated that the Queen would be fine. No one made further inquiries for they had just heard what they needed to hear. While people fantasied aloud about how the kidnapper had met his end, hoping for details from the Colonel, the officer addressed the cook.

´Could I bother you for tea and coffee, Mrs Danieli?´

´Yes of course of course Colonel. Anything! So she'll be fine?´

The Colonel nodded. The cook beamed with delight. When the Colonel left the kitchen, with a tray with tea and coffee and some sandwiches the cook had swiftly made, Charlotte followed her.

At the entrance to the corridor to the Queen's apartment, they passed a guard. When they stood in front of the entrance to the royal suite, Charlotte wondered why there were no guards here as well, just in case.

´The Head of Security is here and I will stay as well.´

´Oh...´

´Her Majesty is asleep. You can't speak to her right now Miss Kutaway. I'm sorry.´

It wasn't until Charlotte had walked away, trying her best not to feel left out, that the Colonel called Joe to open up.

OoOoOoO

Once the officer had stepped inside, Joe locked them in.

The doctor entered the sitting room, quietly closing the bedroom door behind him. The Colonel poured the men coffee.

The doctor cleared his throat. ´I've sedated her, so she will have a good night's sleep.´

He sank into a chair.

´Did you kill him?´

Joe – standing behind a sofa - nodded.

´Slowly and painfully?´

Joe swallowed hard. His mind tortured him with two images.

´I shot him,´ he said with clenched jaws.

The three of them remained silent for a while. The doctor drank his coffee without tasting it.

´Who will nurse her?´

´I will,´ the Colonel told the doctor.

´Apply cold compresses to lessen the bruises. Do you know how to bandage?´

The Colonel nodded.

´The galls on her wrists... I had to clean them... They will heal in time but they will hurt. The ropes cu- ´

Joe kicked the sofa.

´Would you like me to give you a sleeping pill Mr Romero?´ the doctor kindly asked.

´NO! Give me a pill to reset time!´ Joe walked towards a window and stared up to the blurry sky.

The doctor continued what he had to tell the Colonel in a whisper. Joe didn't strain his ears to hear what the Queen's personal physician had to say.


	11. Kitchen talk

Chapter 11 – Kitchen talk

At 9.00 am on the day after the kidnap, the press room of the Castle was packed with both Genovian and foreign reporters.

The spokesman of the Royal House introduced Colonel Frerer and then indicated that Mr Domingo of the New Antiem Times could ask a question.

´Is Her Majesty unharmed?´ the journalist inquired.

´I am afraid I have to say that Her Majesty received injuries,´ the Colonel replied. ´But according to her doctor, who has seen her yesterday on her return to the Castle, she will fully recover. This morning he checked on her again.´

´What injuries does she have?´

The Colonel glanced at the spokesman, who nodded and felt powerless, for the Colonel had full control over this press conference. Even the nodding thing was her idea.

´The Queen has a concussion and bruises.´

The officer seemed to hesitate and looked at Delgana again. He played along and nodded .

´To prevent her from escaping the kidnapper tied her down... it caused a cut in Her Majesty's ankle.´

Shocked exclamations greeted her reply. Delgana nodded at Ms Nin of The Pyran.

´What did the bastard want?´

The question was expected and Delgana started answering it.

´We don't know that yet. We didn't _receive_ any demands.´

´Has he been identified yet?´

´No, he has not. But it will be a matter of hours at most.´

The next journalist who was allowed to ask a question was Mr Werber of the Financial News.

´The Head of Security will not be here?´

´Mr Romero is guarding Her Majesty,´ the Colonel replied.

´I wish he had done that yesterday.´

The journalists murmured.

´Mr Romero was the first to realise that the kidnapper had something in mind. When confronted with the fact that the kidnapper held a gun to Her Majesty's head, he was powerless. The kidnapper said that he would pull the trigger when he was not allowed to leave... with the Queen. His demand had to be met.´

´Well, in the end he _did_ kill the kidnapper. Can you tell us the specifics of that?´

´Yes I can. When the place where Her Majesty was held hostage was located, in a forest in the south of the country, the Head of Security and myself entered it. The kidnapper was holding Her Majesty at gunpoint, but we managed to distract him and the Head of Security shot him.´

´Why didn't the marines enter the house first? They are elite troops.´

´We wanted to enter as quietly as possible. Two sharp shooters make less noise than twelve and our silent entry enabled us to catch the kidnapper by surprise. I would like to take this opportunity to say that the marines and the Royal Guard – who had not worked as a team before - did a very good job in rescuing Her Majesty.´

The Colonel's words were greeted with a spontaneous applause. It surprised the Colonel and perhaps even the journalists themselves. Mr Delgana smiled proudly.

The Colonel pulled at her left sleeve, thus cueing Delgana to permit good old Mr Ramsey of the Pyran Courier to speak.

´Thank you Mr Delgana,´ the journalist started. ´Has Her Majesty spoken about this horrid event yet Colonel?´

´Not as far as I know, Mr Ramsey.´

´Ladies, gentlemen, that was it for now,´ Mr Delgana announced. ´If there's news to tell about the Queen's condition, we will not hesitate to inform you. The report from the army coroner who will be examining the kidnapper's corpse will be made available for you as soon as possible. Thank you!´

OoOoOoO

Elsewhere in the Castle, Mrs Danieli switched off the television.

´Who cares about that _creep_. They should leave his body to be torn apart by animals,´ she stated.

´The Colonel didn't say anything about bruises yesterday, did she?´ Mr Tally asked after the supportive comments to the cook's remark had faded away.

´No, she didn't. But she said the Queen'd be all right and I believe her.´

She started cutting leek for a soup and imagined the vegetable to be the kidnapper's leg.

´Say Livia,´ she said, keeping an eye on her knife, ´is it true that the Head of Security stayed in Her Majesty's suite last night?´

Everyone but the cook looked at linen-maid Livia who was so relieved that the Queen had safely returned, that she forgot that she never gossiped.

´Miss Charlotte told us to bring bedding for two to Her Majesty's sitting room.´

The cook stopped cutting. ´Ah! So Miss Charlotte stayed there as well?´

´No, the Colonel did.´

The cook didn't know what to make of it.

Livia suddenly remembered all the things she had to do, and left, leaving it to her colleagues to call the critical Mr Werber a rat. On her way to the linen room, she passed Miss Charlotte and, speaking so fast that she was scarcely intelligible, told her about the brief conversation between her and the cook. Charlotte assured her that she would take care of it and made it for the Colonel's office before realising her mistake. In the corridor to the Queen's suite, Charlotte met the Colonel.

´You look pale,´ she greeted the officer.

´The time of the month.´

´How is she?´

´She was asleep when I left for the press conference.´

Charlotte, concluding that it was good that the Queen had slept well, told the Colonel about the kitchen gossip.

´Mrs Danieli would make a perfect liaison officer or better still, an interrogator. Thank you for telling me.´

They stood there for a moment, the Colonel wanting to enter the Queen's suite, and Charlotte wanting to follow her. When the Queen's aid realised it wasn't for today, she left with barely a greeting.

OoOoOoO

When the Colonel entered the Queen's suite, the first thing she did was to inquire how Her Majesty was doing.

´Is she still asleep?´

The Head of Security nodded and told her that while she had been at the press conference the doctor had brought a supply of medication.

´Frances...´

´Yes?´

´I'm sorry for my behaviour this morning. I thought we were losing her and your admirable clear thinking seemed uncaring to me...´

´Don't you know that I am called the Vulcan in the army?´

Not waiting for a reply she continued: ´I have to go to the kitchen to do some damage control. Miss Kutaway informed me that they already know we spent the night here. I am going to give them our story.´

She had to wait a few seconds for Joe's nod.

´Miss Kutaway will appreciate it if she could talk to you. Perhaps you could have tea with her in the kitchen this evening? You will kill two birds with one stone, for it will enable people to congratulate you. Don't give me that dismissive gesture: you saved her life Joe!´

Joe, not feeling like a saviour at all, swallowed by way of a reply. After locking the door behind the Colonel, he stood guard next to his beloved Queen's bed, and watched her pale sleeping form.

OoOoOoO

Isabel coughed. And because it was a cough that had nothing to do with clearing a throat, Mrs Danieli looked behind her.

´Colonel! Does Her Majesty want something to eat after all?´

The Colonel yawned.

´Didn't you sleep well?´ The cook and Isabel exchanged a glance. The twenty something servants present lowered their voices. Not that they had been talking very loudly: many had a hangover.

The Colonel yawned again. ´I am sorry, it's just... Would you happen to have something with chocolate in it Mrs Danieli?´ she finished in a whisper.

´Ah!´ the cook whispered back, ´you're in your period!´

The Colonel nodded. The cook smiled broadly and told the Colonel that she would make her a nice chocolate cake. ´And for now, I am sure I have cookies somewhere.´ She disappeared in the store-room and returned with chocolate covered biscuits.

Before she could hand them to the Colonel, the officer's expression changed into an alarmed one and she excused herself. A few minutes later she returned, not offering an explanation. The cook, hoping that a Colonel in her period might be less guarded than usual, had made her tea.

´The Head of Security is with Her Majesty, isn't he, so I suppose you can have a nice cup of hot tea here? Before returning to the Queen?´

The Colonel relished the warmth of the cup for a few moments, before making eye contact with the cook.

´Why do you think I will return to Her Majesty's apartment, Mrs Danieli?´

The opportunity was too good to waste.

´Well, there's a rumour, and I don't say I believe it, you didn´t hear me say that, but it says that the Head of Security and you yourself spent the night in the Queen's suite.´

The Colonel sighed and the cook quickly continued.

´There is no threat to Her Majesty any more, is there?´

´No, there is not. But it is true that we slept in the Queen's sitting room.´

All other conversations ceased. The Colonel reluctantly explained that Her Majesty felt uncomfortable being alone and that the Head of Security seemed most suited to guard her.

´I am spending the night there also, acting as a chaperone. To prevent gossiping.´

She took a sip of her tea, before adding: ´For we all know that certain politicians... We'd rather have this _not_ generally known.´

Relieved that the Colonel had apparently not meant to accuse _them_, they wholeheartedly agreed with her. Wasn't it perfectly logical? Of course the Queen wasn't feeling herself, having a concussion, being bruised (probably because she had missed her footing in the forest) and last but not least having been threatened with a gun.

´Yeah, and who knows for how long she was dragged through that forest in this weather in her high heels!´ Isabel added.

It reminded the Colonel that she had yet another revelation to make. The cook unknowingly helped her deliver it.

´Is it true that the Queen's doctor paid a second visit this morning?´

The Colonel gave the cook a convincing "how did you know that?" look.

´Yes it is. The doctor was worried Her Majesty might have pneumonia.´

The cook covered her mouth with her hands.

´He isn't sure yet,´ the Colonel reassured her.

Her errand completed, the officer soon left. She had a lot to do.

OoOoOoO

At lunch time the arrival of prince Pierre was the main subject of discussion, but some women were talking about menstruation problems.

´On the second day, I often get a headache. Lasts half an hour and then I'm up and running again. Weird,´ Rebecca, the Queen's dress second maid, mentioned.

´My pelvis feels heavy, but that's it. I'm glad I don't have what _she_ has,´ Isabel said. ´An hour ago, she hurried to her own room, so Diana told me. Vilais! You saw her when she was on her way to the Queen's suite again didn´t you? Carrying packs with sanitary towels? And then she had to support herself against a wall because of cramps?´

Vilais nodded.

´She as in the Colonel?´ Mrs Danieli guessed.

´Yes. Pilar from the linen room said that this morning she came to inquire if the Queen's bed needed to be changed, and it didn't, and Pilar, waiting in the corridor, heard footsteps from inside the suite and she heard a door close and _then_ the Colonel gestured she'd come into the sitting room, the Head of Security wasn't there and the Colonel kept an eye on the bedroom door and there were two neat piles of bedding in the sitting room and she got a towel from one of them and there was blood all over it!´

Isabel took a breath. ´The Colonel was embarrassed, Pilar said, and she, the Colonel that is, said she was glad she had taken the precaution to put a towel on her mattress.´

´Oh!´ Mrs Danieli understood, ´so _that's why_ she ran away this morning, she had to go to the ladies!´

Mrs Danieli's conclusions were always correct. If anyone realised that hurrying through corridors, openly carrying sanitary towels and confidentially talking to members of staff just wasn't something the Colonel did, yesterday's stressful events made a change in behaviour explainable. The Colonel was human after all.

OoOoOoO

The guards who had been part of the rescue mission, had been quiet: Teballi had told them not to talk.

After the first excitement had gone, which took a full day, it _wasn't_ Mrs Danieli who first questioned the guards. It was a colleague who'd stayed at the Castle who couldn't contain his curiosity any more. At dinner he asked: 'How was it like Dilson?'

Dilson suddenly had to listen to many remarks and questions.

'We saw you on TV Dilson!'

'It was great that you damaged that camera!'

'Are they going to make you pay for it?'

Dilson talked about how he had argued with the journalist and her camera man. He found a greedy audience. But after a while Mrs Danieli asked him whether he'd seen the hiding place.

Dilson hadn't. Vilais hadn't. Capras hadn't. No one had.

'Did no one go inside?' Isabel asked.

'The boss did. And the Colonel. This soup tastes delicious Mrs Danieli,' Vilais replied.

Dilson paid his compliments too. Capras, sweet shy handsome Capras, barely touched his food.

Vilais just _knew_ that the cook was going to question Capras, who was no match for her.

´Well Dilson,´ Vilais said, ´I wouldn't worry about the camera if I were you. You were absolutely right when you damaged it. Those journalists think they can do just anything. All they want is a scoop. They never consider the trouble they can cause. Should you be made to repay the camera, we'll pass the hat round to help you. Right everyone?´

´Yeah sure.´

´You can count on that.´

´Is there - ´ Vilais smacked his lips, ´a touch of garlic in this soup?´

He knew that soup was a subject Mrs Danieli could dwell on. The cook confirmed Vilais's suspicion and smoothly asked Capras why _he_ hadn't touched his soup. Didn't he like it, or was he thinking about the heroic things he'd done yesterday?

Capras cleared his throat. ´We were ordered not to talk about the rescue mission,´ he said, ´So it's best if no one asked us about it, wouldn't you agree Mrs Danieli?´

The cook found herself nodding. Dilson and Vilais shared a who-would-have-thought-that glance.

´Besides,´ Capras added, ´we didn't do anything heroic. Only the boss did.´


	12. Bits and pieces

Chapter 12 – Bits and pieces

The people of Genovia wanted to _know_.

How had the guards found the hiding place? What had the kidnapper wanted? How exactly had he been killed? How had the Queen responded? When would she make her appearance in public?

The Genovians were fed bits of information and they swallowed it as if they were starved. No one was aware that part of the news that found its way to the media had been carefully prepared by Colonel Frerer and Mr Romero. Small bits of food won't satisfy, but every dish was a novelty and anything with a Queen-ish flavour tasted good, so hardly anyone complained, especially not since it was hinted that the report the Head of Security and the Colonel were preparing, would be made fully available for the press.

OoOoOoO

It was the second day after the Queen's return.

´Many flowers and cards are sent to the Castle,´ Mrs Danieli read aloud for the benefit of her colleagues (even though most of them had already digested the papers).

´Many!´ Carole from the post room exclaimed, ´that's an understatement. Gerard nearly killed his back carrying the bags. And I heard that one of Miss Charlotte's assistants spends all his time noting down the names of everyone who sent the Queen a message.´

´And the bouquets can't even all be placed in Her Majesty's suite. And I had to go to the attic to get more vases,´ Nikita, who dealt with the indoor flowers and plants, sighed.

'Isn't it just wonderful that the Queen left a trace?' someone said.

'And it's just _perfect_ that it was the Head of Security who found the flowers!' Isabel smiled. She wanted to say more about the subject, but her boss hushed her.

´Prince Pierre arrived yesterday, to support his mother,´ the cook read. She placed the paper on her lap. ´I talked to him. He said the Queen had told him she would be fine!´

She smiled and continued the task at hand: ´Cafés made a lot of profit, for Genovia celebrated the rescue of Queen Clarisse.´ The cook added words of her own: ´and rightly so!´

´When _I_ get my hands on the moron who stole the key to the wine cellar...´ the Master of Wine mumbled, not for the first time.

´_I'm_ not complaining about the mess I found in the kitchen yesterday morning, and when some wine was drunk, well, it's not really important, is it?´ the cook happily sighed, still immensely relieved that her Queen had returned alive and well.

´The kidnapper's identity has been established. The man was a Genovian. To protect his innocent family, his name will not be revealed it was hinted.´

The cook didn't get it. She re-read the line.

´Oh: not be revealed period. It was hinted that his last name was not a common one. His relatives were informed and the cremation will take place without any of them attending.´

´Ha!´ the housekeeper cried, ´that's good for he doesn't deserve anyone at his funeral, and if his relatives _would_ be there, they should spit on his coffin!´

Everyone agreed with the usually kind woman. Lord Radras, who'd walked in to get himself an apple, or so he'd announced, asked the cook what _her_ paper had to say about the car-pursuit.

Instead of reading aloud, Mrs Danieli tried her luck with Vilais, who was the only guard present. ´I'm sure you can relate _something_? About what's already in the papers I mean. After all, it might need correction?´

Early that morning Teballi had informed his men that there was information in the media about the _first part_ of the rescue mission. He'd pointed at a pile of papers on the floor, telling them they should start reading. Vilais had figured that this meant the guards could talk a little.

´Well, we followed the kidnapper,' Vilais started. 'We couldn't get close for he would hurt Her Majesty if we did.'

His colleagues hung on his lips.

'We got in the forest and the boss checked the sandy side-roads, just as the papers say. The first road: nothing. The second: not been used in a long time. But the _third_ road had car tracks on it and the boss wanted to know if they were a Jeep's tracks. So he asked _me_.´

He was rewarded with admiring glances.

´I knelt down to study the tracks. It was clearly not a Jeep, I could see that instantly and I informed the boss about that.'

Vilais could have told his colleagues about two more uninteresting sandy roads, but Isabel prevented that.

'Were you there when Mr Romero found out about the gum on the tree?' she asked.

'Yeah I was. Man, it's a good thing the boss is so smart! He realised something was wrong you know: the gum was too old!'

'The kidnapper wasn't in Mr Romero's league,' the cook concluded.

She was ready to continue reading. Apart from the weather forecast, the sports page, the horoscope section and half a page with international news, there wasn't a word that didn't have to do with the kidnap.

´Many people called animal shelters and breeders in order to obtain a heroic blood hound. Vets warn that blood hounds are unsuitable for most families.´

´My little girl wants one too,´ gardener Claude responded. ´I told her that if she got lost I would find her myself and then she said that even the _Hat of Seccy_, she's only three years old you know, needed a dog to help him. I said that he didn't own the dog, but that he hired him and that I could do the same. And guess? She wants to marry the boy from the yellow flowers.´

´Cute,´ Mrs Danieli smiled.

´Anyone for the coroner's report?´ she enthusiastically offered.

OoOoOoO

The coroner's report was nationwide read as if it was a thriller. It was something of a work of fiction to be sure.

For the first time in his career, the coroner had silently asked permission to state facts. When he had pointed at the kidnapper's bitten lip, Colonel Frerer, the only witness to the post-mortem examination, had shaken her head. He had erased the lip from his memory.

He had met the officer several times before and he hadn't been surprised when she'd calmly watched him do his job. She hadn't even commented the smell the opened body produced. But when he'd caught her eyes, he'd quickly looked away, focusing on the corpse again. _´You're lucky you're dead bastard,´_ he had thought.

His forgery didn't prevent him from keeping on good terms with his conscience. In fact, he'd proudly placed his signature under his speedily made report.

OoOoOoO

´There is a effusion of blood on the right ankle,´ Mrs Danieli quoted. ´There is also a mark of point five by point five centimetres on the instep of the right foot.´

Genovians are smart people who don't need many clues.

´Ha!´ Isabel exclaimed, ´she placed her high heel on the bastard's foot! Good!´

´And she kicked him!´ the cook smiled proudly. ´I hope it hurt!´

She re-read the start of the report.

´A single bullet and he had him!´ she sighed admiringly.

´Did you read that article on page five? Isn't it just great that he was part of a special command unit in the army?´ Isabel asked in general.

Dress maid Rebecca blushed and other women smiled, uttering their agreement. Vilais, proud as he was of his boss, didn't see how a man in his sixties, a _balding_ man in his sixties, could be attractive for women who were up to forty years his junior. He moved his hand through his hair and pointed at a cartoon in Financial News.

It showed the Queen, sitting on a simple chair, elegant despite her ankle being tied, the kidnapper's corpse lying at her feet. She looked at a door, where a hand holding a gun was visible. The subscript read ´Mr Romero, I presume?´

´I think it was _just_ like that,´ Vilais changed the subject.

´Yes,´ Mrs Danieli agreed, ´except those journalists don't know that she always calls him Joseph.´

The paper was passed around the kitchen.

´Do you think,´ Isabel said, ´that she fell into his arms? After he freed her?´

Mrs Danieli tilted her head. She had a vivid imagination, but some things were just... Rebecca sighed. She could _just_ picture it.

´He would untie her ankle and he would be kneeling to do so...´

´Oh!´ Isabel agreed.

Rebecca felt encouraged to continue her fantasy, looking down as if the Head of Security was on his knees for _her_.

´And then he would say: Are you all right Your Majesty? And then she would smile and touch his cheek.´

Isabel played with a lock of her hair.

´That is _so_ sweet.´

´Ladies!´ Lord Radras said. ´The next thing you'll say is that she knighted him then and there.´

´Oh! Yes of course!´

´Well, Isabel, she might very well do that, but I doubt she did it right after he freed her ankle.´

´Why not Mrs Danieli?´

´She had just been threatened with a gun!´

´I suppose,´ Isabel reluctantly agreed.

´It doesn't matter,´ Rebecca decided. ´It will also be wonderful if she knights him in a public ceremony.´

´He probably picked her up and carried her all the way to the waiting car,´ Isabel said, for it was just the sort of thing the Head of Security would have done.


	13. Inside information

Chapter 13 – Inside information

´Knock knock.´

Charlotte turned around to find Mrs Danieli in her office's doorway.

´I thought: Miss Charlotte might like to have her afternoon tea in private.´

The cook put down a tray.

´You seem to be in a good mood, Miss Charlotte.´

The Queen's aid put some files on her desk.

´Mr Romero asked me to select documents for Her Majesty to read and sign.´

´Is she in her office?´

The cook, folding her hands, looked at Charlotte with such happy anticipation that Charlotte felt uncomfortable having to say that the Queen was still in her suite.

She was instantly sorry for saying 'still'. The cook ignored the word.

´She's ready to start working again. I am so glad for that Mrs Danieli.´

´I was worried too. It's been three days since her return and she still eats nearly nothing...´

Fussing with the sugar bowl the cook asked: ´Why do _you _think she doesn't leave her rooms?´

Charlotte had given the subject quite some thought and she gave a confident reply.

´Her ankle was hurt and she'll wait for it to fully recover. The doctor checks on it every morning.´

Mrs Danieli nodded.

´But... she could use a walking stick,´ she shyly suggested.

Charlotte raised her eyebrows.

´Noooooo,´ the cook admitted.

´And a concussion causes dizziness,´ Charlotte added.

´Of course! And I've heard she has a cold: she needs a box of tissues per day!´

Charlotte nodded.

´I'm glad that the Head of Security agreed to have a celebration Miss Charlotte. I just want to _hug_ him you know?´

Charlotte smiled.

´I've heard from the guards that Teballi hands Mr Romero the daily security reports and that so far _he_ only comes out at night to have a shower and get other clothes. He's very protective isn't he? Doesn't want to leave her alone too long, even though he's got all these fine men to guard her. He's such a dear.´

Charlotte suppressed a giggle: she imagined the cook to call Joe a dear in his face.

OoOoOoO

There was a knock on the door. Joe answered it and found himself facing Charlotte. She held some folders.

´Hello Joe,´ she smiled, ´I've brought the documents with me. Could you tell Her Majesty that I've picked the thinnest most urgent ones?´

´I will do that Charlotte.´

´And here's her pen. I took it from her office just in case she doesn't have one here.´

She handed the Queen's Meisterstuck to Joe.

´I trust she will soon be...´

Charlotte waved her hand, indicating she meant 'outdoors'.

´I'm sure she will.´

´You _will_ come to the party this evening, won't you? It's in your honour and everyone is dying to see you.´

Thinking Joe was going to say he couldn't make it, she added: ´I mean, the Colonel will be _here_, and you can have some guards sta-´

´I'll be there Charlotte,´ Joe said, giving her a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Charlotte didn't voice that she very much longed to see the Queen. Not to Joe. If _he_ would say no, in whatever kind way, it would be worse than when the Colonel did so.

She felt Joe's hand on her shoulder.

´Well, I'd better return to my office. Give my respectful... and fond regards...again... I... tell her I hope she'll be all right soon and...´

She walked away without finishing her line, not searching for her handkerchief until after she had passed the corridor's entrance doors.

OoOoOoO

The Queen had read the report her Head of Security and Colonel Frerer had produced as well as the coroner's report.

Though she was a fast reader and the reports were not thick, it had taken her quite some time. She tired easily and had difficulty concentrating.

For the first time since her return she stepped into her sitting room. She had dressed herself and was wearing trousers and a long sleeved shirt. She was pale and looked tired. Joe and the Colonel shared a worried look.

´What beautiful flowers,´ the Queen commented the sea of bouquets.

She blinked.

Joe told her it was a selection from what had been sent to her. He gestured towards a side-table where some boxes were placed.

´A small part of the cards and letters that were sent to you by relieved Genovians.´

She just stared.

Joe gestured to the folders Charlotte had brought.

´Those are the documents you asked for ma'am.´

The Queen nodded and sat down in a chair.

´It is about time I start working again. Please be seated.´

As Joe and the Colonel sat down, Her Majesty added: ´I agree with the Colonel that the report you wrote should be published before the new issues of the weekly magazines are printed. So that gives us until tomorrow afternoon.´

Maurice, who had looked at his Mistress longingly from the moment she had stepped out of her bedroom, now walked towards her and laid his head on her knees. Her Majesty didn't respond immediately. When she finally placed her hand on the dog's head, Maurice wagged his tail. He was happy again.

´Joseph, Colonel...´

They faced her.

´You saved my life. I thank you for that.´

Her audience didn't long for more words of thanks.

The Queen swallowed. ´I will always be grateful for the fact that it was the two of _you_ who found me and produced this.´

She gestured at the report she'd placed on her chair's elbow rest.

´I conclude from your report that the biggest issue is the tracing,´ the Queen continued. ´I could carry a cell phone with me from now on, but it could easily be thrown away by a kidnapper.´

Joe had discussed this with the Colonel and he had told her that he would inform Her Majesty about tracing devices to be implanted under the skin.

´Would a tracing device in a piece of jewellery be an idea Joseph?´

Silence. Maurice barked.

Joe cleared his throat: ´It would have to be something you wear every day Your Majesty.´

´My wedding ring. Will you make arrangements?´

´I will ma'am.´

The Queen carefully removed her ring and handed it to the Head of Security.

´I suppose it is best done now since I have to keep to my suite.´

Her Majesty discussed the report as cool as if it concerned someone else. When she got to the description of how the rescue team had made it for bunker VI, she added information of her own.

´When we arrived at the second brook, he picked me up again and entered the water. He got out on the same side about 30 metres downstream.´

Joe felt his hart sink and it showed on his face.

´It was to be expected that he had chosen a bunker for a hiding place. Going to the nearest one after losing the track was a logical decision,´ the Queen said.

She padded Maurice's head. His tail hit the floor.

´I managed to drop the rest of the flowers when he put me down again. He pulled me with him to the bunker.´

Joe and the Colonel remained silent, not even glancing at each other for comfort. The Queen flipped some pages, without registering their contents. She took a cold compress from a cooler and held it against her face.

´I was too late,´ Joe groaned.

´Had you been there five minutes later, you might have found me dead.´

Joe closed his eyes.

´Don't pain yourself with what-ifs. I know them.´

The Queen looked at the pink chrysanthemums on the table.

´What if you had shot him in the throne room? What if you wouldn't have followed the yellow shawl track? What _would_ you have done? The sleuth had not arrived. Would you have spotted the small branch I broke on the other side of the road?´

She felt Joseph gaze at her and rose, gesturing him and the Colonel to remain seated.

´I know it was a silly attempt, but it works in films doesn't it?´

Staring out of the window, she added: ´People pressing an ear against the ground, listening to a conversation taking place kilometres away, ridiculous! I am afraid the next time I see that on screen, I will laugh.´

Focussing on her reflection, she touched her left cheek bone. After sitting down again, she asked them if _they_ had any questions so far.

´Do you know how long it took from the Jeep to the bunker, ma'am?´

´Not exactly Colonel. After we entered the hiding place, he turned on the flash lights, changed and prepared some cold food. When I glanced at my watch, shortly after he had finished eating, almost fifty minutes had passed since we left the Castle.´

Not waiting for a reply, the Queen questioned her rescuers about their actions in bunker IV. She learned, not to her surprise, that they had found a way to smooth away every falsehood they had come up with to cover certain facts. The Queen looked at the papers in her hands. The letters had become a blur.

´I am sorry,´ she said. ´I'm rather tired. We'd better continue later.´

The Colonel and Joe rose and the Queen disappeared into her bedroom. She unintentionally left the door open. The Colonel, being a private person herself, closed it. Doing so, she heard the sound of throwing up.

´I don't have nightmares,´ she softly said. ´I have pleasant dreams about paying him back tenfold.´

Joe _did_ have nightmares. They never lasted long, for they only contained two images. Two images and he would wake up.

A pile, a hole. White roses.

A bed. The kidnapper's bare back.


	14. Mirror mirror on the wall

Chapter 14 – Mirror mirror on the wall

Charlotte came to the Queen's suite at 8.55 pm to escort Joe to The Green (a small ball room occasionally used for staff parties). She beamed with pride when they walked into the decorated and crowded room. Her smile said ´This is all for you Joe and you've deserved it!´

Joe forced himself to smile, as people cheered, shook his hands, slammed his shoulders and kissed his cheeks.

As someone handed Joe a glass of champagne, Charlotte could no longer keep up appearances: she started to cry.

´I am so grateful you found her in time Joe.´

Pictures showing the kidnapper's hiding place had found their way to the evening paper and the TV channels. It shocked the nation to the core to read that the kidnapper had dug the Queen a grave. A picture of a huge pile of earth next to a hole in the ground was found on the front page of 'Pyran Courier'. A bouquet of fading white roses, lying next to the grave, draw every reader's eye to it, just as the then fresh flowers had attracted Joe's attention when he had checked the candle lit room.

Mrs Danieli wiped away her tears and hugged the Head of Security, the words she'd wanted to say to him quite forgotten.

´Speech! Speech!´

Joe had figured they would expect him to say something but he had not prepared a talk.

´What can I say,´ he started. Looking around he saw eyes gleaming with pride, heads nodding with anticipation.

´I just did my job.´

To him it was a lie, but to his audience it was a matter of fact Romero remark and it was received as if it was the understatement of the year.

When the applause, the exited shrieks and the fond laughter had died away, Joe still found people look at him expectantly. He raised his glass.

´To Her Majesty!´

Everyone hailed the Queen and many embraced the hero. Joe hoped he could sneak off, but after he was released, he again found himself the centre of attention.

´I would like to mention that I couldn't have done it without Colonel Frerer,´ he shared.

_He_ had killed the kidnapper, true, but while he'd been removing the rope around the Queen's wrists, careful not to hurt her, and failing in his attempt, he had not been able to think clearly. Perhaps if he had to have done it all alone, it would have been different, but he was glad he had been able to rely on a 'Vulcan' so he could compose himself. Not to mention the fact that the Colonel had stirred him up: providing him with plastic gloves and disinfecting cloths and telling him to take care of the kidnapper and dress him in his jeans. After that she'd suggested he would check the bunker. He'd done so, not finding a thing that shouldn't be there, apart from the calender and the pictures which he placed in Frances's back pack (that she must have retrieved when he'd dealt with the rope: he couldn't remember). By then she had removed the kidnapper's blood from the Queen's face and upper body, dressed Her Majesty in a hooded sweater and a pair of trousers and put a thermal blanket around her.

The Queen had been trembling, her stare vacant. He had supported her while Frances had arranged the mattresses. And now _he_ was praised and no one would ever know what the officer had done.

Joe raised his glass again: ´To the Colonel!´

They echoed his words with enthusiasm.

´Long live the Queen!´ Lord Radras cried.

People cheered. Charlotte hugged Joe. He gave her his handkerchief.

Everyone wanted to talk to him. Some were shy and only said ´Well done Mr Romero´ or ´Thank you!´, but quite a lot were more talkative and told him how they'd felt during the kidnap and how thrilled they'd been when Mrs Danieli had stormed through the corridor leading to the kitchen, and they'd heard her shout: ´She's freed! Everyone! She's free! She's free!´

All Joe had to do was listen, nod and fake a smile. Viscountess Margoli asked Joe how he had felt when seeing the pile of earth in the hiding place. The lady's voice carried far. Joe's reply was listened to by many.

´I was in dread,´ was his simple and honest answer.

It was followed by a silence. People swallowed.

Then: ´Long live Mr Romero!´

´Hurrah, hurrah!´

To all present it seemed as if the great hero had only stayed for a few minutes before he left, but to Joe it felt as if he had left his Queen for hours already.

OoOoOoO

Joe had not asked for this. He was sick with being treated as a knight in shining armour. He had failed her yet everyone hailed him as a hero.

The Prime Minister for instance. He had visited Her Majesty yesterday. Joe figured it was a good thing that Mr Motaz, like everyone else , _wanted_ the Queen to be all right. It made it easy to reason away the fact that she had received him in her coal-black bedroom. The last official visiting her there had been the then Prime Minister Lord Dubois, who had greeted the new born prince Philippe in his mother's arms.

Mr Motaz had to walk to the Queen's bed like a blind man, her weak voice directing him. Joe had been there. The politician had seated himself on a white chair next to the bed. It was too far away to bend over and touch the Queen and too heavy to move closer to the bed. The Prime Minister had told Her Majesty how very happy he and every Genovian were that she was freed. The otherwise intelligent politician had asked his bedridden Queen how she felt.

´It will take a few days,´ she'd slowly said, 'but I will be fine. Thank you for coming Sebastian.´

Mr Motaz had at least understood that _that_ was his cue to leave, which he'd taken after eloquently telling Her Majesty how grateful he was that she was alive and well. And what had he done when entering the Queen's sitting room? He had congratulated _him_, Joe. The man had been sincere. It was obvious that he admired Joe and the Colonel for their action in bunker IV.

Yes, he _had_ killed the kidnapper. But his Queen was hurt. Joe was sure that not even prince Pierre knew about her injuries. He had not been present when His Royal Highness had spoken to his mother, but before the prince had entered his mother's bedroom, Joe had urged him that the Queen needed darkness. The dutiful son had not opened the curtains. And should he have switched on a lamp on a bedside table, he would have found the light bulb missing.

When the prince had joined him in the sitting room, not long after he'd entered the bedroom, he had embraced him.

´Thank you Joe.´

That was all he'd said, but Pierre being the man he was, Joe knew it was like padding his shoulders and shouting "Hurrah, long live my hero!" The prince had spent a day and a half at the Castle. When he'd left, he'd been confident that his mother would soon be fine.

Princess Mia had called her grandmother several times. Each time he, or the Colonel, had either told her that Her Majesty had not regained her voice, having a cold (small wonder, after being dragged through a forest on a cold November day, wearing only a coat and skirt) or that she was asleep (a normal physical reaction for people who had a concussion, they had assured the girl).

When Mia chanced to get Joe on the line, she told him again and again how proud she was of him and that she been convinced he would free her grandmother and that everyone at her school thought he was cool. It had taken Joe some effort, but he had managed to persuade Mia that her plan to come and visit her grandmother would better be postponed for a few weeks.

Her granddaughter may talk a lot but today excepted (_Don't pain yourself with what-ifs_), _she_ had hardly spoken at all. The doctor had told him it was shock. Or simply a sore throat. It had not lessened the horror of Joe's nightmares. He had failed her.

His picture was in the papers, his career written down for all to read. Hell, people sent him _cards_. Women let him know they admired him. Many had written down their phone number, in case he felt like talking, having a drink... Children wrote him that they wanted to be the Queen's Head of Security when they were big, and what should they do to become that? Genovian, French, Spanish, American journalists wanted to talk to him. He could be in a talk show every day for the next four weeks.

His Queen was hurt.

His cheeks were often wet when he woke up from a restless sleep.

He had failed her.


	15. Voir une amie pleurer

Chapter 15 – Voir une amie pleurer

When the Queen of Genovia was kidnapped, her friend, the Queen of the Netherlands, was in Mexico for a state visit. From the moment the news was brought to her she was irritable but once it was reported that Queen Clarisse was freed a brilliant smile adorned her face. However when none of the calls she'd made to Clarisse's private line were answered the Dutch Queen started to worry. And when she had seen the press conference, live on CNN, she had her secretary call her friend's aid. Her secretary reported that Miss Kutaway didn't seem to know any more than had been said by the spokesman and the Colonel.

Queen Beatrix couldn't be bothered by the fact that her Head of the Military House longed for his bed: she ordered him to contact the Genovian Colonel. It took him over an hour to do so. All he could tell his impatiently waiting Queen was that the Colonel had politely repeated what had been said at the conference. The Queen told her people to cancel the four days holiday near Merida she had treated herself to after the state visit. They would fly back to Europe immediately after saying farewell to the President of the Republic. The destination: Pyrus.

OoOoOoO

´Your Majesty,´ the Head of Security said with a bow.

´Mr Romero,´ the Queen of the Netherlands replied, ´Why do I have the feeling that you will tell me that I can't see Her Majesty?´

Joe opened his mouth. It was what he had _planned_ to say, although he would have added a polite excuse. He had successfully prevented the Prime Minister from entering the Queen's suite again, and the Archbishop – after talking to Joe – had decided to write his friend a letter instead of visiting her.

´Of course we both know that I _will_ see her,´ Queen Beatrix said. She continued to walk up the stairs.

´Perhaps we can have a word in my office,´ Joe suggested.

The Queen nodded her assent. After she sat down in the Head of Security's office, she came straight to the point.

´I can speak freely here?´

A nod replied the Queen's question.

´Bruises? She is beaten isn't she?´

Another nod. The Queen studied the man in front of her, who suddenly looked broken. He didn't resemble the hero the media had proclaimed him to be.

´Could you bring me to her please Mr Romero?´

The Head of Security remained seated.

´It is not as if I can't find the way to Her Majesty's suite myself.´

OoOoOoO

´Majesty, if you don't want to see her...´ Joe offered.

´I heard that Mr Romero,´ came a voice from the sitting room. ´C, you have five minutes to get ready.´

Joe was about to explode with anger, when, for the first time since he had brought his Queen home, he saw the ghost of a smile on her face.

´Do let Her Majesty in Joseph.´

The Queen of the Netherlands and Joe passed each other near the doorway. He whispered that Her Majesty needed darkness and received a warm reassuring smile in reply.

OoOoOoO

Beatrix opened a curtain.

´Mozeskrul,´ she responded when seeing Clarisse's face. ´_You're_ not going to win a beauty contest like that.´

Clarisse eyed her friend. Beatrix neither screamed nor paled. She herself had gasped and covered her face with her hands when she'd first looked in a mirror. It had taken courage to face her reflection again.

´May I?´ Beatrix asked, gesturing to the bed.

Clarisse nodded. Beatrix sat down.

´Hello C.´

´B.´

Beatrix put her finger under Clarisse's chin and lifted her face.

´I was _so_ scared when I heard about the kidnapping. And I was so _very_ _happy_ when I learnt you were freed,´ she softly said.

Clarisse's vision became unclear.

´And then I tried to call you and I had my people contact your people, to find out more, and I concluded that they were hiding something.´

Beatrix caressed Clarisse's cheek. Clarisse wiped her eye with a hand that had been hidden under the quilt. Beatrix raised her eyebrows.

´Is your other wrist in a bandage also?´

´Yes.´

The friends sat in silence. When Clarisse bit her lower lip, avoiding her friend's gaze, Beatrix cleared her throat.

´He tied you down. And he beat you.´

Clarisse nodded, still not looking at her friend. Beatrix reached out her hand to almost touch Clarisse's swollen right eye and to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. The top buttons of Clarisse's pyjama jacket were open and Beatrix now noticed the hickeys on her friend's neck. Clarisse had needed courage to look in the mirror again, Beatrix needed courage to whisper a question. She found it after removing some fluff from her skirt.

´Did he... rape you?´

She hoped that her friend would say: ´Really B, getting kidnapped is bad enough isn't it?´ She _willed_ her to say that. But Clarisse whispered: ´Yes.´

´No!´ Beatrix moaned.

Clarisse fingered the quilt. Beatrix swallowed hard.

´Was _that_ why he kidnapped you?´

Clarisse nodded.

´I was afraid B,´ she whispered, ´It hurt so much. It was hu-miliating and I... felt all alone. And powerless.´

She cried. Beatrix held her for a long time.

´I _know_ it happens to many women,´ Clarisse sobbed, ´but _I_ have guards!´

Beatrix held her tighter and kissed her friend's head.

´And _he_ wasn't there to prevent it!´

Clarisse repeatedly kicked her heels against the bed before releasing herself from Beatrix's tender embrace. She sat back against the pillows and wiped her cheeks using the bandage around her wrists.

´At first, in the car... I _knew_ my guards were behind us.´

She cleared her throat.

´But in the forest... I didn't hear a sound. I started to panic. So I told myself that they were very silently chasing us and that they could appear from behind a tree any moment...´

´But they didn't,´ Beatrix helped her.

´No!´

Clarisse hugged a pillow.

´He'd told me not to call out or he would do damage, so instead of talking, I stepped on as many fallen branches as I could. And at the end of the route, he used a flash light, for it got dark, and I dropped myself, hoping he would direct his light backwards, which he did, so _they_ would see it.´

´But they weren't there,´ Beatrix added.

Clarisse smacked the pillow on the bed and draped her upper body over her knees. Beatrix bent over to hold her friend. She wondered whether Joseph could hear his Queen's wordless cries.

OoOoOoO

After Clarisse had fallen asleep, her friend tip-toed to the sitting room. She found the Head of Security at the other end of the suite, staring out of a window. Maurice sat beside him. The dog looked around. The man followed the animal's gaze and cleared his throat.

´Your Majesty,´ he said with a gruffed voice, 'how is Her Majesty?´

´She is sleeping.´

The Queen gestured towards a sofa. The two of them sat down.

´I just realised that I have not even expressed to you how grateful I am that she returned alive,´ the Queen said. ´Thank you.´

Joe inclined his head and stared at a point behind the Dutch sovereign.

´You can't change what happened, Mr Romero. Much as you want to.´

Joe stared at her. The Queen of the Netherlands nodded. The Head of Security briefly closed his eyes, relieved that there was at least _one_ person who knew that he wasn't a _Knight_.

´All this hero talk doesn't sit well with you, does it?´

´It makes me _sick!_´ Joe spat.

The Queen wasn't offended by his outburst.

´I can imagine that. Yet, you saved her life. I've seen the pictures of the grave. It makes my stomach turn to think...´

She took a deep breath.

´She is strong. You know that Mr Romero.´

She didn't get a response.

'You and the Colonel are preparing a report I believe? Could I check it for flaws?'

OoOoOoO

Beatrix was reading when she felt someone looking at her. She smiled at her friend, who seated herself against the head of the bed.

´I'm glad you're here B,´ Clarisse told her.

´I would have come sooner, but I had a state visit to deal with.´

´Mexico,´ Clarisse remembered from Beatrix's last letter.

´Do you _have_ a concussion?´ Beatrix inquired.

´I had. A minor one,´ Clarisse said, pointing at her face, ´But the Colonel thought it would be wise to give me injuries that would enable me to stay in my suite for a while.´

Beatrix nodded. 'This is the report they've made,´ she gestured toward her reading, ´I thought I'd - '

´-comment it? That's a good idea. It will be published this afternoon.´

´Are you hungry C? I asked Joseph to order soup for an early lunch. I wish _my_ cook had the passion for soup yours has. So while I'm here, I intend to profit.´

Clarisse blinked away upcoming tears. Beatrix sat down next to her.

´What it is sweetheart?´

´They are all so upset and concerned, and I haven't even been able to go and see them.´

Beatrix put her arm around her friend's shoulders. ´True, but they are told you will be fine and they cling to that as survivors to a raft. And everyone realises that being kidnapped is not the same as... oh, opening a exhibition.´

Clarisse giggled nervously. ´And the flowers and cards... They...´

´They love you!´

Clarisse started to cry.

´They _love_ you!´ Beatrix repeated. She held Clarisse and stroked her hair.

´It's a _good_ feeling! Something to cherish,´ Beatrix said. ´At times like these, people realise that they can't take everything for granted. For example their brave Queen.´

Clarisse's shoulders started to jolt. Beatrix got rid of her shoes and put her legs on the bed, the better to hold her friend.

OoOoOoO

´This soup is delicious,´ Beatrix praised. She refilled her friend's bowl.

´Really B,´ Clarisse mumbled, but she took the bowl _and_ the slice of bread Beatrix offered her.

Clarisse had taken a shower and changed into a pair of trousers and a vest above a sleeveless top. She went bare footed. A cool mask covered her right eye. She wanted to give vent to her feelings, but she didn't know how to start. Her friend had known her for nearly fifty years though.

´Rope?´ Beatrix asked, gesturing at Clarisse's wrists.

´Yes.´

Sip.

Sip.

´There was a calender on a wall and I walked towards it to get away from him. On that day it said _mine_.´

Sip.

´He made me read it aloud and pressed his groin against my back, so I'd understand what he meant,´ Clarisse added.

Sip.

´He'd already given me glances... I was terrified B. I tried to win time by talking.´

She shrugged. What good had it done? Pathetic attempt!

´That man only wanted _one _thing. There was _no way_ you could have stopped him. C, look at me!´

Clarisse eyed her friend.

´You know my Prime Minister don't you? He's a tall imposing man and he's been in the army. Before he became a famous politician, he was rubbed once by a junkie. The junkie had a knife. Mr Nouwen didn't hesitate: he handed over his money.´

Clarisse was about to say something, but her friend didn't let her.

´Despite the fact that in a man to man fight, Mr Nouwen would easily have eliminated the drug addict, he realised that fists are no match for a knife in the hands of someone who desperately needs dope.´

Before Clarisse could respond, Beatrix continued. ´Could you have fought the kidnapper in a man to man fight?´

Silence.

´C?´

´No. I couldn't have won.´

´Never forget that!´

Sip.

Sip.

Beatrix had read every article about the kidnap, including the coroner's report.

´You stepped on his foot didn't you?´

Clarisse nodded. ´I wouldn't be dragged to his bed and go to the slaughter without resistance.´

´The slaughter?´

Clarisse hesitated. ´He showed me a spade. It had a bow attached to the handle.´

´Sick!´

´I fought him B, I did,´ Clarisse cried. ´When he tied me down, I used my fists and knees to – to- ´

She started to shake. Beatrix walked towards her and held her.

Moving her hands on her friend's back in soothing movements, Beatrix softly talked to her.

´Clarisse, when someone threatens you with a gun -´

´He did- did- didn't drew his gun then,´ Clarisse hiccuped, ´He'd put a knife at my throat but not when he – not on the bed, he just cut my pan- panties and - ´

Beatrix stifled a curse (_just_?) and looked her friend in the eyes.

´That man _had_ a gun and he _had_ a knife and _he had threatened you with them before_. He was tall, he was strong and...?´

Clarisse nestled herself in Beatrix's arms. After a while she whispered: ´I couldn't have won.´

´You couldn't have won. You were powerless. And you _didn't_ want to be raped. Never ever forget that!´

Clarisse broke down. Beatrix prevented herself from crying by picturing the rapist to be alive in the Castle's dungeons and herself having a knife, paying him a visit.

...

...

Author's note: Voir une amie pleurer means to watch a friend cry. It's after a song by the Belgian singer Jacques Brel.

´Mozeskrul´ is an expression my former religious teacher used (for such a man can hardly cry out ´Jesus!´).


	16. Facts

Chapter 16 – Facts

Clarisse, exhausted from talking and crying, had fallen asleep again.

Beatrix was making faint pencil marks in the marginal lines of the handwritten report. There it was: the spade with the bow attached to the handle, standing against a wall in the grave room. Beatrix nodded. It was a good thing that storytellers Romero and Frerer had kept the adornment. It proved that the kidnapper had been a lunatic and it focused attention on the grave he'd dug and his plan to murder the Queen.

According to the report the kidnapper had been softly talking to the Queen, aiming a gun at her head at the moment the Head of Security and the Colonel had entered. The report didn't make note of communication devices being found, which made Beatrix conclude that there hadn't been any. _Tell lies if you have to, but stick to the truth as much as possible_, she thought. When she'd finished the report, she believed that its future readers would figure that the kidnapper had kept himself busy digging and talking to the Queen. He hadn't contacted the Castle, for he had wanted to kill, not to ransom.

Beatrix caressed Clarisse's bruised cheek and unintentionally woke her.

Clarisse had asked Beatrix to wake her in time so she could have a final look at the report before it would be typed, printed and presented to the press. Beatrix, who wanted to ask Colonel Frerer some questions first (thinking that Joseph wouldn't be able to answer them and that he'd prefer to keep it that way – she'd already thought of an excuse to have him leave) told her friend to rest.

´I'll wake you in fifteen minutes C.´

Clarisse drifted asleep again.

OoOoOoO

The Dutch Queen entered the sitting room and was greeted by Colonel Frerer who informed her that Mr Romero was walking Maurice. After expressing her thanks for the rescue of Queen Clarisse, Queen Beatrix told the Colonel that she'd read the report and had some remarks to make.

The ladies sat down, after the Queen had switched on a radio. She inquired after the calender and was told that it was burned with the kidnapper's corpse, just like the pictures were.

´Pictures of Her Majesty?´

The Colonel told herself to be tight-lipped. ´Yes ma'am, they were taped on the door of the _grave room_.´

´Did you really find the spade in there?´

The Colonel eyed the Queen.

´We did not, Your Majesty. It was in a room used for storage.´

The officer noticed that the Queen seemed relieved.

´May I ask why you asked that question ma'am?´

´Her Majesty knew that the kidnapper planned to kill her: she mentioned the spade, but not the grave. After reading the report I reasoned that either the kidnapper had taken the spade from the grave room to show it to her _or_ that you had "moved" it there.´

The officer gave a small nod.

´I know what happened Colonel,´ the Queen said. Without waiting for a response, she matter-of-factly continued: ´The dress maids can name each and every item in Her Majesty's wardrobe. What have you done to the clothes she was wearing?´

Having liked Queen Beatrix at first sight, the Colonel was careful all the same. The Dutch Queen inquiring after the calender must mean that the Queen had told her about it for it was not mentioned in the report. But still, even _should_ her Queen had revealed what the calender read, that _didn't_ mean she'd been communicative about other things.

Queen Beatrix tore out a piece of paper from a note book and wrote down a word. She handed the paper to the Colonel, who read it and carefully dropped it in the burning fire place.

´Her stockings had ladders, and when I noticed that, back at the Castle, after I'd washed them, I threw them away. Her skirt was stained and I foolishly tried to clean it myself. I messed it up, ruining the skirt and I was scolded for it by the first dress maid since mud stains, she told me, _can_ be removed if done so properly.´

Queen Beatrix could picture both the dress maid, who probably hadn't dared to look the officer in the eye while complaining about people not knowing how to get stains out, as well as the Colonel who would have listened with _just_ the right expression on her face.

´Fortunately I hadn't yet touched the coat we'd found on the room's floor and the dress maids managed to get the stains – mud- out. The blouse and even the bra Her Majesty was wearing were covered with the kidnapper's blood, and should the dress maids inquire after it, I'll tell them that I threw them away because of that. The blood had already dried after all and washing proved no good. I washed the panties and garter belt but I threw them away too, for I realised they matched the bra.´

The Dutch Queen nodded appreciatively. The Colonel had created a substantially built story even if it was only meant for a very small audience.

´I take it that in the Throne Room the guards only had their guns whereas in the bunker you had sharp shooter's riffles?´

´We did ma'am.´

The Queen wiggled her pencil between her fingers. ´I would mention the kind of weapons you carried with you.´

The Colonel saw the point of that.

´The report states that there were three mattresses instead of one bed,´ the Queen continued.

´The mattresses were tied together by bands to make a bed.´

´Sheets, blankets?´

´Sheets on the top mattress. Sheets, bands, the rope -´ (the Colonel held up her hands, her wrists placed against another), ´- were burned along with the corpse.´

Queen Beatrix nodded, wiggling her pencil.

´_Was_ there only one flute?´

´There was. It was likely that the kidnapper had drunk the champagne, so it couldn't be ignored. It seemed like another _bow_ to me.´

The Queen of the Netherlands had only just learned what had happened to her friend. Clarisse hadn't spoken about the shooting and to Beatrix it was a fact that the kidnapper had held a seated Clarisse at gunpoint, just as the Colonel had said at the press conference several days ago.

´The belt's buckle was facing inwards I take it, pressing against her ankle?´

The Queen looked at the officer, who was eyeing her searchingly. It suddenly dawned on the Queen that what she had _thought_ to be a fact, was fiction. There was a knock on the door. The officer rose, whispering: ´What happened was still happening when...´ her index finger and thumb made the sign of shooting.

Queen Beatrix broke her pencil.

OoOoOoO

The presentation of the report was broadcasted live on Genovia 1 and the Castle's staff kitchen was crowded for many felt that there was no other place to watch the _final_.

´Yes yes, your tie-pin is still there,´ Isabel commented Mr Delgana's actions on the TV screen.

She and the others heard the spokesman clear his throat and welcome the journalists. He informed them that he had made a summary of the last part of the report. He held up a piece of mould-made paper and said that the Queen had asked him to convey a message.

Mrs Danieli looked around and found that Miss Charlotte wasn't present.

Mr Delgana informed the country that Her Majesty was deeply moved by the flowers, cards, letters and many other tokens of affection she had received after the kidnapping. Her doctor was content with her recovery and Her Majesty hoped that she would soon be able to pass her thanks in a more personal way.

The journalists' applause filled the kitchen.

´Oh!´ Mrs Danieli said, smiling and nodding, ´she's really feeling better now, isn't she? If only she starts eating properly...´

´He should have read her letter aloud,´ the housekeeper remarked.

Mr Tally suppressed a grin.

´Mr Delgana has a habit of copying people's diction when he quotes them. Her Majesty found out one day and -´

Mr Tally was hushed for the spokesman had finished his introduction. Mr Delgana said that the kidnapper's hiding place had been one of six old bunkers from the King Louis III line and that in the third bunker the Head of Security and the Colonel entered two plates were found, one of them covered with food and the other emptied.

People all over the country hung on the spokesman's lips as he talked about the bunker's earth floor that had enabled the kidnapper to dig a grave. Mr Delgana reminded his listeners about the pictures of the grave that had been prematurely published and informed them that a spade had been found in the _grave room_.

´That makes sense,´ gardener Claude remarked, but he cursed himself for speaking aloud, for the spokesman added that a bow had been attached to the spade's handle.

´A bow!´ Anna said tearfully, ´that is _so_ mean!´

´A bow...´ the cook whispered.

´That freak!´ Claude shouted.

Many had something to say about the subject, but Lord Radras, who kept his focus on the TV, silenced them: the spokesman had finally entered the room where the Queen had been found.

Genovia learned that Her Majesty had been seated on a mattress and that her ankles had been tied up with a belt. The belt had a rope fastened to it and the rope was attached to a ring in a wall.

_The kidnapper was squatting in front of her_, Mr Delgana's voice filled the silent kitchen, _softly talking to her while holding her at gunpoint. The Colonel threw a little clod and that distracted the kidnapper. For a moment his gun was no longer aimed at Her Majesty and the Head of Security shot him. It was then two hours after the kidnap had started. After attending to Her Majesty, checking the bunker more thoroughly and dealing with the kidnapper's body, the Head of Security informed the Emergency Team at the Castle about the Queen's rescue._

Mrs Danieli inhaled deeply. She would _never_ forget that glorious moment.

Kitchen maid Anna sobbed: ´Maybe he was telling her that he would ki- ki- kill her!´

´Or that he had a spade to bu-´

´Don't you _dare_ finish that line!´ the cook threatened poor well-meaning Claude.

It was quickly decided among the Queen's servants that the bunker had been checked again to see if there were walkie-talkies or phones or – as Miss Breton contributed – accomplices of the kidnapper. Attending to the Queen meant releasing her ankle (Rebecca and Isabel could just picture how the Queen had sat on the mattress: her back straight and her head held high), giving her something to drink, putting something warm around her (Mr Romero's jacket, or so certain young women swooned) and telling her they would soon leave for the Castle.

´But if he was squatting in front of her,´ Rebecca wondered, ´and the Head of Security shot him through the head, doesn't that mean...´

Isabel, to whom she'd been talking, and others who'd heard her, thought it over.

´Ew!´ Isabel concluded, ´that would be... EW!´

She moved her hands over her face, as if it was covered with blood, brains and bone and wiped them on her upper legs.

Genovia 1 now showed a studio where journalists and a few 'subject matter experts' had gathered to discuss the Romero/Frerer report (or, as some called it, the Romero/Frerer file). Mr Ramsey from the Pyran Courier praised the admirable openness of the Genovian court. His colleagues agreed with him. Elsie Penworthy was the only one who complained, saying that the Head of Security had not responded to her request for an interview.

´Does that woman have a _brain_?´ Mrs Danieli commented loudly. She welcomed any subject to replace the Queen-covered-in-blood talk her colleagues were engaged in.

´Mr Delgana already made clear that the members of the rescue squad would not grant interviews,´ Mr Jonas said.

´Do you think the Queen will give an interview?´

It was the housekeeper who asked the question and because of her rang in the household she didn't get replies such as _Are you out of your mind? _She _did_ get looks, which made her add: ´Not _right_ _now_ of course. Perhaps in a few weeks' time?´

Viscountess Margoli remarked that at most Her Majesty would briefly relate to the kidnap in her Christmas speech. She quickly changed her mind however and declared that the Queen would say something about it during the first session of Parliament she would attend so at Christmas she could honour the poor deceased prince.

Anna started to cry: ´What a horrible year it has been for her!´

In the thoughtful silence that followed, they heard an exited journalist say that the plates of food had been placed on a picnic rug. He asked a police psychologist what could be concluded from that.

´_I_ can tell you that,´ Mrs Danieli said with contempt, casually wiping away a tear, ´the man was a bloody _creep_! It was no picnic!´

When the journalists discussed the champagne and the single flute that had been found in the bunker and the psychologist said that the kidnapper had been thrilled at the prospect of killing the Queen and that he had wanted her to know, Mrs Danieli used curses that would have made a sailor whistle admiringly.

OoOoOoO

Their Majesties didn't watch TV. They were playing patience.

´It's a comfort having you here,´ Clarisse said.

´Anything for soup,´ Beatrix smiled.

Clarisse smirked. They continued their game.

´I once played patience with Emma,´ Beatrix said, watching her friend stare at the grinning knave she'd just drawn, ´and instead of turning a card around, she tapped it, for she was used to playing it on the computer.´

´He chuckled,´ Clarisse softly said.

´He chuckled when he put a knife at my throat, and he chuckled when I told him to get off me. He chuckled when I looked at the door, hoping for Joseph to rush in. Later on he kissed me and I bit him and he punched my head - ´

Clarisse made a fist and held it in front of her bruised eye.

´ - and told me not to do that again or he would start cutting. His lips neared mine and I turned away my head. He _chuckled_ and kissed my neck.´

Beatrix swallowed. Clarisse's index finger traced the Queen of spades' cleavage line.

´When he was having his _pleasure - ´_

Clarisse spit the word, remembering all to clearly when and how the kidnapper had said it.

´- it occurred to me that I would be found just as I laid, should they come _in time_.´

Tears fell down her cheeks. ´Skirt around my waist, bra be- below my br- breasts, se- se- semen -´

She saw the pained look on her friend's face.

´I'm sorry B, but I-´

Beatrix nodded reassuringly.

OoOoOoO

When Clarisse stopped talking, her friend sat her on her bed, assisted her in undressing, tucked her in, kissed her head and quietly returned to the empty sitting room. Pressing a pillow against her stomach for comfort, Beatrix soundlessly cried.


	17. First glances

Chapter 17 – First glances

The Queen's sitting room was a bedroom no longer. The previous night had been the first Joe and the Colonel had spent in their own apartments again. Queen Beatrix had stayed in King Rupert's rooms, which connected to the Queen's suite. It was unusual, but wasn't it logical that Her Majesty wanted her royal friend nearby?

With the Colonel having obligations elsewhere this morning, Joe had to face the two Queens alone. After discussing what the papers had to say about the Romero/Frerer report, the Queen asked Joe how everyone was doing.

´They are anxious to see you Your Majesty,´ he replied, ´but otherwise things are getting back to normal.´

The Queen inhaled: ´Good!´

Queen Beatrix eyed her suspiciously.

´I thought I might see Charlotte today,´ her friend replied to her unspoken question.

´Can't you wait for a day or two, three?´

The Queen knew that even in a few days time her bruises wouldn't have faded away very much and – although she told herself she was strong enough again - she wanted her friend to be around to talk to after her first confrontation with an outsi- someone who didn't know.

´I wouldn't step outside my suite. I will invite her to come here.´

Queen Beatrix looked at the Head of Security for help. While the Queens had been talking like the equals they were, he had pretended not to be present.

´She longs to see you Your Majesty,´ Joe truthfully told his Queen.

´So does your Prime Minister, I am sure,´ Queen Beatrix told her friend, ´You could invite _him_ first...´

The Queen said she would consider it. Queen Beatrix, after glancing at the Head of Security, checked her watch.

´Oh dear,´ she said,´I promised to call Ernst.´

She excused herself and rose. Joe stood also and he didn't sit down after the Queen of the Netherlands had left. The Queen picked up her cup of tea. Joe walked to a window. They experienced the first uncomfortable silence between them ever. Joe was afraid for what she might say. He wanted to flee. The Queen was nervous in his presence. She wanted to tell him to go.

He didn't move. She didn't speak. When Queen Beatrix returned, they both relaxed. Joe suddenly knew he would have been able to talk if only the Dutch Queen would have stayed away for a few moments more and the Queen wondered whether she'd really felt as if there had been a stranger in the room.

´How is Ernst doing?´

´He sends you his love. Aletta called him yesterday evening to use him as a guinea-pig for her lecture.´

´What will be her subject?´

´Sailing. She plans to demonstrate some knots.´

´Princess Aletta is Her Majesty's eldest grandchild Joseph,´ the Queen explained to her Head of Security.

´Is Her Royal Highness of the same age as princess Amelia?´ Joe inquired.

´No, she is eight years younger. Speaking of Amelia, when it is five o'clock here, it will be eight o'clock in San Francisco won't it?´

´That is correct ma'am.´

´I want to call her at that time, just before she goes to school.´

´If I may: she'd love to hear from you Your Majesty.´

Queen Beatrix drank her tea while listening to the polite chatting.

OoOoOoO

Joe was taking Maurice for a walk. He wanted to think about his behaviour towards Charlotte: he had not been very supportive to his friend. But it was remarkably easy not too feel bad about it for Charlotte didn't seem to mind at all. His thoughts soon drifted away. When Maurice wagged his tail Joe looked up.

´Good afternoon Mr Romero,´ the Queen of the Netherlands greeted him.

Before Joe realised it he had accepted the Queen's invitation to walk to the greenhouse.

´Maurice is in a playful mood,´ the Queen said, looking at the dog. ´One would almost say that spring is in the air.´

´While Her Majesty kept to her bedroom,´ Joe replied, ´he only left her sitting room to do what had to be done. He always returned as soon as he could.´

The Queen smiled. She had a dog too. They walked in silence for a while.

´Do you know Mr Romero that when I travel abroad I always have a black outfit with me? I am sure it is standard procedure for queens.´

She glanced at him. ´Let me explain: having a black outfit means that one can change into mourning attire.´

Joe took the branch Maurice offered him and forcefully threw it away.

´I'm not wearing black, am I?´

Joe cleared his throat. ´No you're not ma'am.´

They were walking on a lawn and there was no one around.

´It pains me to see her hurt,´ Queen Beatrix said. She had a deeply rooted distrust against journalists and she preferred to speak in code, so in case one of those mosquitoes would hang around carrying a powerfull microphone, he wouldn't be the wiser.

´But it is infinitely better that looking at her corpse in a coffin,´ the Queen added.

Joe felt like throwing up. He took a deep breath.

´You can reproach yourself for the rest of your life for not having been there earlier so she wouldn't have been beaten but that would prevent you to rejoice in her being alive.´

Joe bent down to adjust and re-adjust his shoe laces. The Queen eloquently praised Maurice for getting the branch and she threw it away for him. Joe rose and followed the Queen of the Netherlands. Had she met him by chance? Was she expecting him to reply? He cleared his throat. It might not be appropriate for him to talk this way to a Head of State, but he couldn't stop himself.

´Her Majesty rested in my arms on the way home. The Colonel wants me to belief that it means that she still _trusts_ me. _I_ think that people who are traumatised aren't aware of the world around them.´

The Queen tilted her head. She carefully chose her words.

´Oh, the latter may be true Mr Romero... I am not a physician, I can't tell. But in this case I would bet my money on the Colonel.´

´Why is that ma'am?´ Joe said, his voice thick with emotion. He felt her glancing at him but he kept watching Maurice.

´Because you're not just her bodyguard. You are her friend.´

OoOoOoO

It was 4.00 pm.

Charlotte was thrilled when the Colonel came to her office and handed her a note from Her Majesty herself. It was an invitation to join her for tea. As they walked to the Queen's suite, Charlotte couldn't help but smile: she would see the Queen! She would be the first courtier to see her! And Her Majesty's handwriting had been as fluent and elegant as always.

´You must realise,´ the Colonel said, almost ruining Charlotte's merry mood with her serious tone, ´that she is still bruised. Despite cold compresses.´

Charlotte nodded. She figured that the Queen's legs were bruised and perhaps an arm, from falling against trees. Or: she'd seated herself on the mattress, missed her footing and fell against the wall. Or: her ankles had been tied and _then_ she'd tried to sit down, hurting herself in the process. It was hard to imagine the Queen being clumsy, even when handicapped, but it was preferable to picturing the kidnapper grabbing her arm hard when dragging her with him or when forcing her to sit down or worse still: kicking her legs after she'd stepped on his foot.

´_Badly_ bruised,´ the officer said.

Charlotte was insulted that the Colonel thought she needed to be prepared. The Prime Minister had seen Her Majesty today and Charlotte had spoken to him afterward. Mr Motaz hadn't mentioned that the Queen was badly hurt. He hadn't been very talkative mind you. She'd had to ask him trice how the Queen was doing before he stopped staring ahead of him. She'd been relieved when the politician had explained that he had a headache. The poor man.

When arriving at the entrance to the Queen's suite, the Colonel addressed Charlotte again. ´Are you ready Miss Kutaway?´

´What? Yes Colonel off course.´

Charlotte checked if her outfit was as immaculate as it should be. The Colonel knocked. Charlotte inhaled deeply. Joe opened the door and stepped outside. Charlotte smiled at him and he returned it.

See? Nothing to worry about.

OoOoOoO

Mrs Danieli had not been able to accidentally bump into the Prime Minister on his way back from the Queen's suite. Then word had spread that Miss Charlotte had been invited to have tea with Her Majesty. The cook thought aloud how she could best contact Miss Charlotte. Viscountess Margoli suggested that she herself could drop by Miss Kutaway's office.

OoOoOoO

Miss Kutaway had not returned yet. Since waiting in her office might seem strange the Viscountess walked to the nearest ladies room. As she opened the door, she bumped into the woman she was looking for. The Viscountess had a cheerful ´Oh I'm sorry´ on her lips, when she noticed the secretary's red eyes.

´What is wrong Miss Kutaway?´

´I had tea with Her Majesty,´ Charlotte hiccuped without thinking.

The Viscountess didn't like the feel of it. ´You did, did you? That is wonderful! And you've cried a little because you are relieved she's recovering?´

Charlotte started crying again and got herself some toilet paper. She walked to her office. The Viscountess thought she was gesturing her to come along, so she followed her. Leaning against her desk, Charlotte composed herself. The Viscountess fed her tissues and got increasingly nervous.

´Look at you,´ she said, ´your mascara ran through.´

Fearing that the secretary was going to cry again, she quickly added: ´Tell me, how was Her Majesty?´

´The Colonel warned me that she was badly bruised,´ Charlotte softly said.

´Surely the Colonel meant that civilians -´

Charlotte shook her head. She was ashamed for the unkind thoughts she'd had towards the officer.

´She _is_ badly bruised.´

The Viscountess very unladylike started scratching her neck. ´So Her Majesty fell in the forest and hurt herself?´

´Not bloody likely,´ Charlotte replied, hatred in her eyes.

The Viscountess stared at the secretary. ´Do you think... he...´

Charlotte nodded and cleared her throat. ´_She_ was comforting _me_, can you imagine? She is so strong! All _I_ could do was cry.´

The Queen's aid stared at her tissue. ´Her right eye is not even visible.´

The Viscountess gasped.

OoOoOoO

Before Queen Beatrix was going to have dinner with her friend, she asked her maid, Hetty Zwart, to help her find a brooch. As Miss Zwart removed pillows and checked between the seat and the back of a sofa, the Queen kindly asked her whether she'd spent her day in an enjoyable way.

´I did ma'am. It's nice to talk to other dress maids. From other countries I mean.´

The Queen smiled. ´Is there anything here that should be copied in The Hague?´

The maid proudly shook her head. ´They take awful long breaks here,´ she said disapprovingly.

The Queen laughed. ´With Her Majesty not yet fully working, some members of her staff just don't have that much to do.´

´I've got it! Oh no, I haven't,´ Miss Zwart said, looking at a cuff-link she'd found. She placed it on a side table.

´Queen Clarisse's dress maids long to fulfil their duties again ma'am.´

Queen Beatrix knew that starting tomorrow the dress maids would have enough to do. Her friend would select some outfits to be taken in. The gown she was wearing today would have to serve as an example.

´This morning everyone was talking about the kidnap report and what the papers had to say about it. But this afternoon a lady came in to tell them about – It's not here ma'am. I'll check that chair.´

Miss Zwart walked to a leather club chair, saying she hoped she'd find the brooch.

´A lady?´ Queen Beatrix remarked, rummaging through her jewellery box.

´Yes ma'am. A Viscountess. She'd talked to Queen Clarisse's secretary who'd had tea with her.´

Glancing at her employer, she dared continue: ´Word is that she's badly bruised ma'am. Like the loser of a boxing match. Black, blue and greenish...´

The Queen confirmed this with a thoughtful nod. Miss Zwart, who now had something to contribute to the kitchen talk, had more to reveal.

´The dress maids later on asked the Queen's aid about the clothes the Queen had been wearing. The lady could not give a detailed description: she said the Queen wore a dark red gown, which had a collar with beads and perhaps a small belt, but she didn't know what fabric it was made of. The first dress maid said it must be a dress her Queen had worn sixteen years ago. And she knew that that meant – I'm sorry ma'am – five kilos.´

Queen Beatrix didn't comment her maid's remark. Hetty was in a talkative mood (being able to speak Dutch again probably had to do with it) and that was just what her Queen wanted.

´But the cook didn't like that and she asked the Queen's aid to think hard about how the dress had looked liked. Well ma'am, the young lady confessed that she'd paid more attention to the bandage around the Queen's ankle than to the dress. The bandage was white you see ma'am and the stockings were black so naturally she couldn't miss it.´

It was what Queen Beatrix had hoped for. The bandage had been noticed by Miss Kutaway, the gown's colour had stood out, but the fact that the collar was high had not been registered and the long sleeves had gone unnoticed.

Her Majesty soon found her brooch herself, just where she'd put it.

OoOoOoO

Clarisse always felt at ease when she was with Beatrix and yesterday she'd learned that even when her friend helped her undress she wasn't uncomfortable in her presence. In a flash she had realised that B seeing her like that (in panties and a chemise) meant that there were some things she didn't need to _tell_ her. B had _seen_ the hickeys. She had _seen_ the bruises on her inner thighs. She had _seen_ the bite marks on her upper arms. Beatrix had been quick to grasp that the marks were self-inflicted: it had shown in her eyes.

That had been yesterday. Today Clarisse had told herself that she'd cried enough. Inviting the Prime Minister and Charlotte would prove, she'd told herself, that she was _just fine_.

Despite the fact that she'd applied make-up to cover as many bruises as possible and despite the fact that she'd been careful to show her good side first, Mr Motaz had not been able to hide his reaction when she'd greeted him. She'd been afraid that the look in his eyes combined with him using her first name would make her feel weak. So she'd greeted him formally, which made it impossible for him to call her _Clarisse_, and she'd told him that she was pleased to see him again, even though it was with just one eye.

Charlotte had stared at her. She'd walked towards her secretary, who had covered her own face with her hands. She'd comforted her, softly saying that the bruises wouldn't last. It had felt good having to be strong. But as she told B afterwards, she was sorry for making Charlotte sad. And B, who had advised her _against_ inviting Charlotte, said that the secretary would also have been sad if she hadn't been asked for a visit.

OoOoOoO

´Don't you like the food C?´

´I do. I'm just not hungry.´

Clarisse yawned and apologised for it.

´You've had a busy day C.´

´Hardly. Besides, I took a nap after Sebastian left and then again after Charlotte left and after my call to Amelia I fell asleep for an hour. I'm not much of a hostess.´

´You're not a hostess. You're my friend.´

Clarisse yawned again.

´I _do_ hope our girls will get along,´ Beatrix remarked, ´We have to bring them together soon.´

Clarisse laughed. It made Beatrix smile.

´Can you imagine how your calm Louise will react to my little chatterbox Amelia?´

Beatrix grinned.

´She is such a sweet girl,´ Clarisse said.

The friends looked at each other.

´There is _something_ good about this year,´ Beatrix started.

´It brought me my granddaughter,´ Clarisse finished.

Beatrix helped herself to some more Brussels sprouts. Clarisse studied her plate.

´Have you checked the flowers in the green house B?´

Beatrix affirmed it. ´Joseph walked me there. We had a chat.´

´How are the roses doing?´

´Blossoming. No scent at all, but they are a feast for the eye.´

Beatrix put her cutlery down. Clarisse swallowed.

´How are your wrists doing C?´

´I hardly feel them any more.´

Gesturing towards a tray Clarisse quickly asked Beatrix if she would like some cheesecake. Her voice sounded higher than usual, but Beatrix pretended not to notice.

´Maybe later on, thank you.´

Silence.

´You're fingering your glass C.´

Clarisse shrugged. Still looking at her glass she said: ´He turned me on my stomach at one point... I was so frightened B, I thought he was going to... but he en- tered me the... nor-mal way and started lick-ing... and nibb-ling my neck, sh- shoulders, back. He said it was _erotic!_ It was dis-gus-ting.´

True to the promise she'd made herself, Clarisse didn't cry. She made if for the bathroom and threw up.

OoOoOoO

Beatrix flushed the WC, placing her free hand on her friend's back. When Clarisse sat against a wall, Beatrix handed her a wet washing glove and a glass of water. She joined her on the floor.

´I hate him,´ Beatrix said, adding: ´I wish he were alive and held in your dungeons.´

Clarisse nodded, but after a while she replied: ´It's better this way.´

´I know,´ Beatrix softly agreed.

´He called me _ma cherie_.´

Beatrix placed her arm around her friends shoulders.

´In between he held me as if we were lo-vers.´

Beatrix closed her eyes.

´It felt like another violation,´ Clarisse whispered.

She bent over the toilet. Nothing came out but gall.

...

...

Author's note: Before exploring the Queen/Joseph relationship, the coming chapter will be an interlude focusing on a Canadian director (see my story _The Goletsyn move_ for the director's first and only encounter with the Queen and Joe).


	18. Fiction

Below you will find an interlude in which the main characters do not make their appearance.

* * *

Chapter 18 – Fiction

The Canadian director Wladimyr Goletsyn had followed the news about the kidnap of Queen Clarisse with interest. Nine years ago he had wanted to shoot a film in Genovia but something had happened to prevent that. The film _was_ set in Genovia, but it was shot in a studio. It had become a huge success, being nominated for a Golden Globe and an Oscar.

Many movie lovers had visited Genovia, to see the real square where the film's finale had been situated. It was something that Goletsyn never forgot to mention in interviews, thinking that the money his fans spent in the charming country made amends for his gaffe. Republican by heart, Goletsyn pictured Queen Clarisse to offer him her hand to kiss it. She'd smile at him, all forgiven. He, Wladimyr Goletsyn, would make that happen.

He _had_ to make a movie. He'd started thinking about it when he heard about the kidnap and he _knew_ when he saw the picture of the pile of earth next to the hole in the ground. It had even made it to Canadian newspapers.

He was hypnotized by the photo. He _had_ to _make_ the _movie_. And he would write great lines. For _her_.

It was perfect. All the ingredients were there. A beautiful Queen for a heroine. A monster. A car chase. Frightened Genovians, the heroine being dragged through a forest, darkness falling. Marines hunting down the kidnapper. The spade.

Goletsyn had read the coroner's report as well as the Frerer file and he knew them by heart. He was waiting for inspiration.

OoOoOoO

Watching an episode of the Muppet show ("Fifteen seconds to curtain Mr Martin!") he had a mind flash.

It had taken about two hours. He would make a minute to minute movie. Brilliant!

His Muse touched him. He grabbed his writing-book.

_INT. HIDING PLACE – NIGHT_

_KIDNAPPER shows QUEEN a pile of earth next to a hole in the ground. He waves his flash light._

_QUEEN_

_How thoughtful. Now my men can easily get rid of you._

Goletsyn called his friend David to tell him he wouldn't make it for the rehearsal dinner of his wedding. He had a movie to write.

OoOoOoO

It took him two days. When he was done, he ate, re-read his script and walked to the huge mirror above his fire place to tell himself he was a genius. He removed a clay cow-ish thing his nephew had made him so he could place his Academy Award there.

Goletsyn then dressed to grace David's wedding reception with his presence.

OoOoOoO

During the wedding dinner he didn't converse with the other guests: what could possibly be more interesting than thinking about his movie?

He might name his baby _Two Hours_, or did _120 Minutes_ sound better? Perhaps he should not emphasize the brilliance of his idea... _Queen in peril_? _Kidnap_? _Royal kidnap_? He liked the y in that. _Royal kidnap_, the eight film by Wladimyr Goletsyn. Uhm. If he would call it _Royalty_, he'd have two y's, just like in his name.

He wouldn't be able to have the movie shot and edited before the nominations for 2002 were made. The Academy Award 2003 for best motion picture goes to: Royal kidnap. He really needed to find a title... _A royal 120_. He clicked his tongue. That sounded like a bosom size. Best not. _One Two O_. There's a thought... The two capital O's looked almost as good as two y's. What about _Special Statement_? After all, that was how it had started.

A few moments of quiet contemplation later, Goletsyn started drumming the table. The other guests believed that he showed his enthusiasm for the funny speech the father of the bride had just finished and they added their applause to the director's beats.

_Red alert # 3_!

OoOoOoO

Finding a title for his film had made Goletsyn high. It wasn't until he was back at home that his brain allowed logic to take control again. Looking in the mirror he noticed some lipstick. He reached for his handkerchief and found that it had been replaced by pink panties. He still had it!

There was one thing he _didn't_ like about the kidnap, he told himself. He cleaned his face and then threw the panties in the fire place. He just _hated_ dogs. Especially slobbering ones like blood hounds. And they were lousy actors. That's why he had skipped the animal. _His_ Head of Security would find the track alone. With _her_ help off course. That idiot Romero couldn't do it by himself.

The Queen/kidnapper part was of course made up by him, Wladimyr Goletsyn. It was a good thing he had a vivid imagination and a dark mind. Now what about the actors? The kidnapper should be mean, but not so much so that he could become a cult hero. _She_ wouldn't like that. John? Sean? Tim? Kevin? Michael? Who could play _her_? Helen Mirren? A fine actress, but she didn't have the somewhat vulnerable elegance the Queen of Genovia had. Fanny Ardant? Too much out in the open sex appeal. Glenn Close? Great. But with the parts she had played in the past, people would expect her to bite the kidnapper's throat.

What was that graceful British actress's name? She had played in this series about a younger doctor falling in love with her.

If he could have RA#3 in cinemas by September then the DVD could be brought out early December. A few weeks later he would generate publicity by announcing that he'd sent Her Majesty the Queen of Genovia a DVD, special edition of course, for a Christmas gift, with his respectful compliments. The publicity would make the people at the Academy Award remember his film. Again. Not that they would need to be reminded of it.

He fell asleep on a coach knowing that his movie was going to be a fucking masterpiece.


	19. Back to business

Chapter 19 – Back to business

It wasn't the holiday season that created such merriment in the Castle. The beautiful Christmas trees, instead of _causing_ a sense of joy, seemed to _express_ the happiness the servants and courtiers felt: Her Majesty would leave her suite!

Her first act was to finish the disrupted Audience where it had ended, or almost, for the little flower boy had been invited also. Afterwards she attended a meeting of the House of Parliament (broadcasted live on Genovia 1). Every party-leader claimed his right to the pulpit to welcome her. The Queen thanked the nation for their kindness and support. Hardly anyone _wasn't_ moved by the sweet sight of her. When she left Parliament, she made it for The Green where her staff had gathered.

Mrs Danieli forgot the protocol and gave her Queen a hug. The Head of Security stepped closer and no one followed the cook's example, but everyone's joy was obvious. The male courtiers kissed Her Majesty's hand, and when Lord Radras took her right hand and bent down while Baron Villand grabbed hold of her other hand, the amused Queen gave them a charming smile. It caused the happy bystanders to laugh aloud, but the noblemen didn't feel bad about that for Her Majesty reassuringly pressed their hands.

´She's really back,´ Anna whispered.

Joe, quickly blocking the Queen's view from the crying kitchen maid, was anxious to get his lady back to her suite, sensing she was tired. But Her Majesty had planned to speak to her employees and being the woman she was, she delivered her speech. Her words were warm, praising everyone who'd been in the Throne Room for their calmness, naming and thanking those involved in executing the red alert script for their excellent work (she had to interrupt her speech for the short but loud applause her words caused) and not forgetting the others by saying how touched she was by everyone's sympathy.

She expressed her regret that she couldn't have seen them sooner, and remarked that she had not been _presentable_. Charlotte blushed, people eyed the secretary and then stared at the ground. The Queen pretended that it wasn't until now that she realised that her having had rather bad bruises was know throughout the Castle. She briefly laid her hand on her aid's upper arm. Charlotte inhaled and felt much better all of a sudden.

The Queen looked at her people, genuinely glad to see them, which showed in her eyes and, with an understanding smile, said that she appreciated their secrecy.

´Long live the Queen!´ Lord Radras cried.

OoOoOoO

Joseph walked Her Majesty into her suite, saying that he liked to check it.

_He_ didn't believe that anybody would be hiding there. _She_ wasn't afraid of intruders, not at daytime anyway...

_He_ hoped to be able to speak with her. _She_ reasoned that he wanted to make her feel safe, and she didn't want to deny him that.

The Queen sat down on a sofa, and Maurice appeared at her side, giving her a faithful look.

Joe cleared his throat and said that he would check the grand balcony. Within a minute he returned, to find his Queen stretched out and fast asleep. Her black Manolos were lying on the floor. Joe wanted to carry her to her bed, but he wasn't sure how she would take that should she wake up. He got a blanket from her bedroom and carefully covered her with it, resisting the urge to tuck her in: she might wake up, afraid. Of him. But she wouldn't fear his eyes caressing her, especially not when hers were closed.

_The Colonel wants me to belief that it means that she still trusts me. _I _think that people who are traumatised aren't aware of the world around them._

_I would bet my money on the Colonel. Because you're not just her bodyguard. You are her friend._

For a while he had allowed himself to believe the Queen of the Netherlands. But when she had returned to her country, and Colonel Frerer had joined her regiment, doubt started to rule his mind. Placing a log on the fire, Joe wondered whether people had observed something particular about the interaction between him and Her Majesty today.

OoOoOoO

Charlotte, pleasantly surprised at having Joe drop by, voiced her relief about the Queen not being angry with her for having talked about the bruises. Joe said what was right, making Charlotte smile.

´Things are really back to normal now, aren't they Joe?´

Before Joe could answer, Charlotte proved to have asked a rhetorical question. Gesturing toward a pile of folders on her desk, she proudly mentioned that the Queen had made up arrears of work. The secretary happily chatted about how Her Majesty had been doing in the Throne Room (´so sweet Joe!´), the House of Parliament (´cheers and smiling faces everywhere!´) and The Green, completely forgetting that her friend had been guarding the Queen. There were several opportunities for Joe to introduce what was on his mind, but he felt he'd been neglecting Charlotte for too long and chose to simply listen.

´I am looking forward to tomorrow evening,´ the secretary told him, ´I can just _hear_ the people cheering when she steps out of her limousine.´

It would be the Queen's first outdoor public appearance after the kidnap. Her Majesty would attend the opening night of _La fille du régiment _and journalists, photographers and camera teams from several countries had asked to be admitted to the press-box. Joe had insisted on crush-barriers being placed around the entrance to the opera house. When Mr Delgana had objected that that wouldn't look very festive, Joe – with clenched jaws - had suggested to have the barriers decorated with pine branches and holly.

Just like Charlotte, Joe expected a huge crowd to greet the Queen. It would do Her Majesty good. But what if the enthusiasm of her subjects showed itself in running toward her and touching her? How would she respond? He'd be glad if it was tomorrow evening and she was back home...

While Joe privately worried, Charlotte had entered another subject. She was talking about a bunk-bed and her cousin Annette. Joe didn't need more information to fill in the details: he knew that Charlotte would spend a week with her relatives in a small French mansion.

´Your luck huh?´

Charlotte nodded: ´But it will be nice.´

She sighed. ´A few days ago I asked Her Majesty whether she would want me to stay _here_ for Christmas, but she said family is important...´

Joe nodded. The Queen had told _him_ the same when – some months ago - he had mentioned that his brother and sister-in-law were hosting a brunch on 23 December. If it wasn't for the fact that prince Pierre would be at the Castle at Christmas, Joe would have called his brother to tell him he couldn't make it after all.

´It really is unfortunate that Miss Thermopolis's sister wants to celebrate her fiftieth birthday. My aunt and uncle are married on 24 December, so it's logical to invite us _now_, but the princess's aunt is born in October! Why have a big family reunion at Christmas?´

Joe grinned at Charlotte's aggrieved expression.

´Princess Mia _will_ be here for a few days...´ he reminded Charlotte.

´Yes. It will be good for Her Majesty to have her granddaughter around. And the princess will get a chance to meet her uncle, if only for two days. I just wished they would _both_ be here for Christmas... They are all the family she's got.´

OoOoOoO

Maurice sat up. The sounds coming from the sofa had alerted him. His sleeping Mistress was kicking the arm rest. The blanket wasn't warming her legs any more.

´No,´ she moaned.

Maurice wondered what he'd done wrong. He gently placed his head on his Mistress's stomach.

The Queen woke up with a jolt.


	20. Not quite the same

Chapter 20 – Not quite the same

´I like the snow, the grounds look so magnificent.´

Princess Mia enthusiastically agreed with Charlotte: ´It is _so_ cool!´

They followed the Queen and Joe who were heading for the greenhouses: Her Majesty wanted to show her granddaughter her winter roses.

´My friend Lilly has an aunt who works at a jeweller's,´ Mia said, ´and one day she got robbed, in the store you know, and she got a knife at her throat...´

Mia shook her head before continuing her story. ´Must be awful. It's been like six years ago, and sometimes she still gets panic attacks.´

The girl looked at Charlotte and raised her eyebrows a few times.

´Her Majesty _doesn't_ have panic attacks.´

Mia shrugged. ´You were there when the kidnapper pulled his gun, weren't you?´

Charlotte nodded. ´If was horrible,´ she softly said.

´Yeah! I would have _screamed_!´

The Queen turned around. Mia waved at her, which earned her a smile. The girl lowered her voice.

´But would you say _she_ was afraid?´

´No, she was perfectly calm.´

´Right,´ Mia said, not surprised at all. ´So if a woman like her has a panic attack, you'd never notice, would you?´

Charlotte had talked to the housekeeper, who'd said that the sheets on the Queen's bed proved she was tossing about.

´She probably tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and that's it,´ Mia judged.

Charlotte thought that the Queen -at most- might have nightmares, but she didn't share that idea.

´The Queen of the Netherlands reminds me of grandma,´ Mia said, casually bending down to pick up a handful of snow, ´they both have this way to talk sweetly and get you to do what _they_ want.´

Charlotte stifled a smile.

´I mean, Joe told me it would be best if I wouldn't come and see grandma straight away, right after she was kidnapped you know? And I figured OK, but then I talked about it with my friend and we agreed that grandma _would_ like to see me. So, I called grandma again, she already felt better 'cause _she'_d called _me_ and then Queen Beatrix answered the phone and I announced that I was coming to Pyrus in three days time and when we hung up, I had agreed to come for the holidays instead and I thought I came up with it myself but she had. Sort of. You know.´

Charlotte didn't have to provide an answer.

´Joe is _so_ great, wouldn't you agree Charlotte? The girls in my class think he's hot. I must remember to tell grandma. It might make her laugh. Have you ever met my uncle?´

Charlotte repressed the urge to look at the sky. She wasn't used to having a teenager around and Amelia could talk for minutes, seemingly without breathing and certainly without properly introducing subjects. She told the princess that she had met prince Pierre, but that she didn't know him.

´I hope he isn't one of those moralising creeps,´ Mia sighed, lazily throwing a snow ball toward a bush. ´Does he have any hobbies?´

Charlotte said she believed the prince liked fishing.

´Well, I'd like to meet him. Ask him what dad was like as a brother. Grandma will like it, having uncle Pierre and myself around, won't you say so?´

Charlotte nodded.

´I asked her about the kidnapping and she said: _It is not something I would like to experience again_ -´ Mia failed miserably at copying her grandmother's voice. ´- and then she praised the rescue team and told me how moved she'd been by everyone being so kind to her and how much she had appreciated my phone calls. Did she talk about the kidnapping with you? I mean _really_ talk?´

Charlotte replied in the negative, adding that she believed that the Queen _had_ spoken about it with the Queen of the Netherlands.

´Yeah sure,´ Mia said understandingly, ´and with Joe as well.´

Charlotte nodded, but she had her doubts about it. _Mia_ apparently hadn't noticed that her grandmother and Joe walked in silence. Or if she _had_, she must have thought it to be a comfortable silence between friends.

Since leaving her suite, the Queen had presided several staff meetings. It had been just like before, except when the Head of Security had been present. Charlotte pressed her lips together. She really should talk about it with him.

OoOoOoO

The Queen noticed that Amelia didn't care much for the gorgeous roses in her greenhouse. She smiled and placed her arm around the girl's shoulders.

´Come on darling, let's go back inside. There are scones waiting for you.´

And so Joe accompanied Charlotte on the way back. Charlotte pretended to slip a few times, causing a small delay which moved her and Joe out of hearing distance from the royals.

´Did you find the present you wanted to buy for your brother?´

´Yes,´ Joe replied, keeping an eye on the Queen, ´I never realised that these days you can buy anything on the internet. It's convenient.´

´But you always liked the Christmas decorations in town. And having a cup of hot chocolate with me at _The three counts_...´

Charlotte eyed her friend. ´You don't like it when people recognise you, do you?´

Joe gave her a smile. ´Next year Charlotte, promise,´ he said, taking her hand and pressing it.

´Are you all right Joe?´

He didn't reply. For a few moments only the crunching of the snow under their feet and Mia's voice could be heard.

´It's just that I noticed that well... something changed between you and - ,´ Charlotte finished her line by gesturing toward Her Majesty.

´You _did_?´ Joe replied with gruffed voice.

The emotion in his voice startled Charlotte. ´I uhm... I don't... It's just... Just... the easy footing... Oh Joe, I'm sorry... I am just babbling.´

´Nonsense,´ Joe said, his tone normal again. ´Tell me.´

´It's... I've seen you glance at her with the same look you always had when you watched her,´ Charlotte replied, almost forgetting to add spaces. ´But you just don't seem comfortable when you have to interact...´

Charlotte stared at the ground.

Joe swallowed. ´You've seen her Charlotte. I'm her bodyguard, and I couldn't prevent her from being beaten. I don't feel comfortable around her, true. I feel guilty.´

His conversational tone made Charlotte feel even more for him. She put an arm around his waist. Feeling he wouldn't want her to say that he had saved Her Majesty's life, she said: ´You're still her Head of Security. That _means_ something Joe!´

She kissed his cheek. A certain girl happened to look behind her at that very moment.

´WOW! There's no mistletoe hanging there Charlotte!´

A snowball collided with Joe's chest.

´Amelia!´

Joe made a show of falling backwards. Charlotte, equally glad for the distraction, started to giggle. Mia ran toward Joe, but instead of asking him if he was all right, she buried her hands in the snow and -

´Amelia don't!´

covered Joe's face with the cold stuff.

´Amelia!´

Joe suddenly sat up, grabbed Mia and gave her payment in kind. The girl laughed so loud that she nearly choked in it. Charlotte tried to remain serious.

´Amelia! Joseph! O really!´

The Queen, who had followed her granddaughter back, shook her head. Despite her exclamations, she cast a fond glance at the scene, which didn't go unnoticed by Charlotte. When the Queen gestured her smiling aid to accompany her to the Castle, Charlotte gladly did her bidding.

OoOoOoO

Joe, noticing that his Queen was already fifteen metres ahead of them, got to his feet and gave Mia a hand, pulling her up. The girl used the ends of her shawl to remove some snow from her face.

´Have I told you that the girls at school think you're hot?´

Joe frowned.

´Common Joe, you're sort of sexy you know,´ Mia giggled. ´With your black clothes and your ear-ring. And you being a hero. You're cool!´

´Hot, cool,´ Joe said, ´that just makes lukewarm.´

Mia couldn't stop laughing for a while. A bird flew up. Wiping away some tears, Mia kindly placed her elbow in Joe's side.

´You know what I mean.´ She gestured toward her grandmother. ´She looks like a creature from a fairy country, don't you think so? I don't understand how she can walk on those heels in the snow.´

Her Majesty looked lovely in her white outfit. Joe nodded, glad for Mia's chatting.

´I suppose that her shoes didn't give her any difficulty when she was dragged through the forest? I mean, _I_ probably would have lost them. Or broken a heel, you know. Put that in your red alert script Joe: if _I_ get kidnapped, bring me another pair of shoes. What's uncle Pierre like?´

Joe, trained to expect the unexpected, instantly replied to the girl's last question: ´Your uncle – and your father as well - looked a lot like His Majesty: tall, broad shouldered, handsome. Prince Pierre inherited his mother's eyes, but that is as far as his physical resemblance with Her Majesty goes.´

´Good for him,´ Mia grinned, ´I'm sure he wouldn't be too glad if he had her body. Speaking of which: she lost weight. I felt it when I hugged her this morning. I'll make sure _she_ eats lots of scones too. But what sort of man is uncle Pierre?´

´He takes after Her Majesty.´

´In what way?´

´He loves to read and listen to music... And he too is a very private person.´

Mia sighed.

´So, he's hard to get to know huh?´

´Not for everyone. I think that he'll open up soon. Especially if you do too. He's very intelligent and warm and kind.´

Mia winked at him: ´Aren't you giving a description of grandma?´

Joe looked ahead.

´Joe's got a soft spot for grandma,´ Mia softly said in a sing-song voice. ´And you know,´ she confided, ´with you having saved her life, and it being almost Christmas, all you have to do is carry some mistletoe with you and she'll be in your arms in no time, you'll see!´


	21. Musing

Chapter 21 – Musing

At 7.25 am Joe seated himself in his dentist's waiting room. With five minutes to kill before his appointment he flipped through some magazines. In an old issue of ´Country's Voice´ he found pictures of the Queen's first outdoor appearance after the kidnap. Wearing a claret Bordeaux gown with a tight bodice, a boot-neck and a flowing wide skirt, she had looked breathtakingly beautiful. Joe smiled at seeing the photos. How they had cheered for her! It had been a roar of delight. He had relished the smile on her face as she'd drank in the public's applause.

Joe picked up another magazine. It showed pictures of the Christmas photo shoot at the Castle. The lovely photos made in the family sitting room (with portraits of King Rupert and prince Philippe in the background) didn't show how hectic the whole event had been. They _did_ show that the royals were completely at ease with each other and that the Queen was very happy having her son and granddaughter with her.

When Joe heard a door open, he put the magazine down. The dentist found him checking his watch and apologised for the small delay.

OoOoOoO

As the dentist was humming his way through checking his patient's gums, Joe recalled a moment when things had seemed just like they had always been.

The prince and his niece had been engaged in a snowball fight in the courtyard. The Queen and Maurice had watched them. He, Joe, had been there as well. Then the Queen had said: ´Amelia had probably not expected that a priest could be inclined to win a fight.´

Joe, surprised at being addressed, had replied that Their Highnesses seemed to like each other. She'd turned toward him with a warm smile that wouldn't leave her face, expressing how satisfying it was to see her son and granddaughter so close already.

It was just like it used to be. For a moment. He _now_ believed that she had been talking to Maurice.

´Could you open your mouth a little wider please,´ the dentist asked him.

Joe didn't think that apart from Charlotte anyone had noticed something different. In fact he was sure of it, for whenever he entered the kitchen, or walked into talking servants, the conversations taking place innocently continued.

´Well,´ the dentist sighed, removing his utensils from Joe's mouth, ´everything looks fine. A shame really, I just returned from a diving trip and I need to pay for my next one.´

He winked. Joe had known him for years and he gave him a grin. ´Not from _my_ wallet Hugo.´

The dentist laughed and adjusted the chair in which his patient laid so he would get in a sitting position again.

OoOoOoO

Joe made an appointment with the dentist's assistant for the next check.

´Let's see,´ the young man said, checking his computer screen, ´In six months time? Is 27 July OK with you sir? Seven thirty again?´

Several suggestions were needed before Joe could make a (coded) note in his memo-book. There was no one in the waiting room, but the assistant whispered nonetheless when he asked: ´Her Majesty probably wasn't too happy when Goletsyn announced he will make a film of the kidnap, was she?´

Joe answered the question with one of his own: ´Would you be?´

The director had made his announcement over a week ago and frankly the Queen _didn't_ seem upset by it. She'd asked her Head of Security and Colonel Frerer what they thought of it. Joe feared that because of the incident years ago Goletsyn might be inclined to add some physicality.

´I doubt that,´ the Colonel had commented, ´from what I read in interviews, he regrets his past behaviour. He is not likely to repeat such actions, not even in a film.´

The Queen had nodded.

´There is nothing we can do about it,´ she'd said, ´I just hope he isn't going to make us say or do silly things.´

OoOoOoO

After returning from the dentist's, Joe went to his apartment to collect a file he'd been reading that night. The sun had just come up. Looking around, Joe suddenly had a hunch. He picked up a frame that stood on the floor (facing a book-case) and walked to a wall.

_Here_. It was hard to see how the painting fitted, having to hold it at arm's length, but Joe was convinced that he'd finally found the perfect spot for it. _She saw that I admired it_, he told himself. _Would she have given it to me if she was angry with me? __Yes she would, _he replied his own question. _She'd feel childish if she would deny you the gift she'd bought you. _

He'd seen the painting in San Francisco months ago. The Queen had walked in to a gallery to see if something would catch her eye, and with one of his men behind her, Joe had walked ahead, not paying much attention to the art. One item had made him stop though. His employer had noticed that. Joe, who knew nearly nothing about modern art, had inadequately described the painting as ´beautiful´ to the art-loving Queen. She'd nodded appreciatingly.

´The artist has a Rembrandt-ish hand with light,´ she'd commented.

Joe had raised his eyebrows after looking at the price tag. Amused, the Queen had checked it also.

´This is a joy for the eye as well as a good investment Joseph.´

He'd shaken his head. And she had secretly bought it for him. For Christmas.

Carefully placing the painting on its temporary spot again, he wondered whether he'd still work here this year's Christmas. Charlotte's reassuring remark on the day the princess had arrived, had not convinced him. True: he was still the Head of Security. But to Joe he simply wasn't fired _yet. _Right now, people would talk when _the hero of 2001_ (an overwhelming majority of TV viewers had chosen _him_ to carry that title – Joe planned to give the trophy that had been sent to him to an auction for charity) would get the sack.

Sometimes his Queen would look at him with such a serious expression, that he thought his last day in her service had arrived. Or she would clear her throat and say his name in a way as to make his stomach feel as tight as a knot. So far, she hadn't told him to pack his bags.

OoOoOoO

Joe, after his small conversation with Charlotte in December, had made sure not to look grim or pensive when she was around. He had invited his friend to come to his room to admire the painting as it hung on its perfect spot. Charlotte, holding a glass of wine, tilted her head.

´It's beautiful Joe. And I'm _so_ glad you finally hung it.´

Joe explained that he had only just found the right place to hang it. Charlotte raised her eyebrows and smiled understandingly.

It puzzled Joe, until she said: ´You forgave yourself at last didn't you? I've noticed that you're not... down anymore.´

Joe gave her a smile and refilled her glass.

OoOoOoO

The Colonel and Joe were working on a martial arts exercise in the Castle's dojo. The bond that had been created between them made Joe confide in the officer.

´If you expect to be fired,´ the Colonel replied -

They inhaled.

´- why don't you resign?´

They inhaled.

Joe was lost for an answer. After finishing their workout, they sat on a low bench against the dojo's wall. The Colonel poured them both tea from a vacuum flask. They drank their first beaker in silence.

´I can't resign.´

Joe folded his hands around his refilled beaker.

´I don't want to leave. I -´

Frances cast him one of her rare smiles. She placed a fist on her heart, making a beating movement. A small nod was the only reply Joe was capable of.


	22. Changes

Chapter 22 - Changes

The Queen held a letter.

"You're not happy with the 'tense yet polite relationship' you have now. Would things have been different had he been your lover, C?"

Leave it to Beatrix to ask a question like that. When in San Francisco Clarisse had written her friend about her worries: would Amelia accept her heritage? Would Parliament accept Amelia? She had not neglected to mention Joseph's support. She´d longed to know what Beatrix thought of the _you've been wearing black too long_ remark and she had noted it down as something funny: the pot telling the kettle she's black. She'd also mentioned that he'd wordlessly asked her to dance with him. At the first possible opportunity, she'd received a reply from her friend.

Normally Beatrix would start a letter with a simple "C" but now it read "Coloured kettle". Beatrix – who couldn't possibly have proof that she had stopped wearing black - had advised her to take advantage of the privacy San Francisco had to offer to find out how good a dancer Joseph was.

Clarisse had smirked when she'd read that, imagining the twinkle in her friend's eye when she'd written it down. In a PS in her returning letter to Beatrix she'd written "vertically fine".

Every time Joseph had made his appearance in one of her letters, Beatrix's return letter had contained a postscript "horizontally?" And _her_ replies had then answered with a "PS -?"

After the kidnap they concluded their letters with their signatures, whether Joseph was mentioned or not.

And now, halfway a letter: _Would things have been different had he been your lover, C?_

OoOoOoO

The look in Joseph´s eyes – as they had swayed in unison after Mia's departure from the consulate's ballroom -had made her heart beat accelerate. She'd been sure he wanted more, which – in the privacy of her room – had made her blush with arousal.

Before the kidnap she'd had dreams that made her wake up with a smile. She'd danced in her rose garden and in her partner's arms she'd felt sensual. Feminine. In her dreams she had kissed and touched him. In real life she hadn't acted so boldly. Back in Pyrus it had almost been business as usual: it's hard to court when the walls have ears. And eyes as well. The media had attributed her new look to her being relieved for having an heir. But for how long?

Before the kidnap Joseph and she had shared garden walks. She'd taken a liking to walk on the lawn after it had rained: she could easily miss her footing and what was more natural that accepting the arm of her Head of Security to prevent that? Walking close to him, casually resting her hand on his wrist, touching the skin of his hand. Would anyone understand how erotic that was? Joseph did: his eyes showed it.

His eyes. He could control his facial muscles as well as she mastered hers. He could order his eyes to be cold. But when he had looked at _her_, his eyes had disobeyed him. Feeling his gaze on her had made her feel desirable. When she caught him glancing at her these days, he would look away.

_Would things have been different had he been your lover, C?_

Clarisse sat at her desk, resting her forehead against her left hand. She picked up her pen.

OoOoOoO

Pyrus, 28 January 2002

Dear B,

Yes, for he would have held me. He would have wiped the nightmares away with his touch. But we weren't lovers. It is as simply as that. You will say that it is never too late. I don't know about that: even when I still longed for a dance, as you so deftly described it, I never forgot that we were walking on slippery ground. Perhaps the problems an affair would cause made me act so slowly. There's no point in regretting that now. What happened happened.

The magic of our time in San Francisco, which clung to me for months, is gone. I feel uneasy when I'm alone with him. Protected, yes. Safe from harm, absolutely. I should talk to him. Occasionally I muster up courage to do so, but when I address him, there's a slight tremble in my voice that betrays me and makes him tense. And then I clear my throat and inquire after this or that.

This short note took me a long time to write. I'll reply to the rest of your letter later on. Send my love to Ernst and the girls.

Clarisse


	23. A box of tissues, part 1

Chapter 23 – A box of tissues, part 1

The Queen had just opened the new green house of the University of Pyrus. She was now engaged in a lively conversation with a botanic. The University's dignitaries would love to join the incomprehensible exchange about orchids but they had to be content with just listening to and looking at Her Majesty. The Queen wore a dress in the softest shade of pink with a matching bolero.

It was a joy to watch her, or so Joe thought. The various photographers seemed to agree with him.

In addition to opening the green house, Her Majesty would baptise an orchid that would bare her name. Accompanied by the Vice-Chancellor she walked to where the plant was placed, next to a garden trowel and a bowl with water. Using the trowel, she put some earth around the plant's base, manually pressing it against the soil. With a smile she dropped some water on the plant, repeating the baptism when the reporters asked for it.

OoOoOoO

Joe walked into Charlotte's office to say hello. The secretary inquired how the Queen Clarisse orchid looked like but all Joe could make of it was ´white with small pink lines´.

Charlotte laughed but became serious again when she received a call. She pressed a button.

´Your Majesty?´

´Charlotte, could you get me some tissues?´ the Queen's voice came through via the speaker.

´Yes ma'am.´

The connection was broken and Charlotte turned her chair around to search the cupboard behind her.

´Really Joe, only remembering the _colour_,´ she smiled, ´You're like a woman who can only say that someone's new car was red.´

Joe grinned.

´Ah, here it is,´ Charlotte commented when finding a box of tissues.

´She sounded as if she had a cold,´ she suddenly realised.

When someone entered the office with a pile of envelops that needed Miss Kutaway's attention the Head of Security offered to deliver the box.

OoOoOoO

Joe found Her Majesty reading a document. Her left hand covered the lower part of her nose and mouth. She held a handkerchief: Joe saw a corner of it.

´Are you all right ma'am?´ Joe inquired.

The Queen nodded and reached out her free hand for the box her Head of Security had brought with him. Joe planned to give it to her and resume his duties, when the handkerchief coloured red. When she saw his expression, the Queen looked caught.

´No one hurt me Joseph,´ she reassured him. Her words made some of his facial muscles relax but they didn't make him leave her. Joe walked around her desk and, careful not to spill blood on her clothes, replaced the blood-stained handkerchief for some tissues.

´Lean your head forward a little,´ he softly said.

He raised his eyebrows when he noticed that the waste-paper basket next to the desk had several red handkerchiefs in it.

´I can arrange for a cold compress ma'am,´ he suggested.

The Queen shook her head. Joe wanted to take care of her and he needed to find out what had caused her nose to bleed. So instead of _telling_ her how to pinch her nostrils together, he said: ´I will pinch your nose just below the bridge for five minutes. That will stop the bleeding. Please be careful to breath through your mouth.´

She nodded.

After a little while he asked: ´What happened Your Majesty? Did you have to sneeze a lot?´

She replied in the negative.

He was standing behind her, his left arm over her shoulder. The dumb and index finger of his left hand applied pressure to her nose. With his other hand he got her new tissues from time to time. The intimacy of the position in which he found himself somehow reminded him of dancing and of days that would never return.

´Are you feeling dizzy ma'am?´

She shook her head ever so slightly.

The unemployed fingers of his left hand started to get uncomfortable and he stretched them. He had not _meant_ to touch her cheek but he _did_. He felt moisture and he bent forward so he could see her face. She looked down.

´What happened?´

The worry in his voice made the Queen inhale deeply, to calm herself. ´Oh, it is silly,´ she shrugged, accepting a new tissue to dry her eyes,´the earth in the green house, the orchid. I..., I just... The earth...´

She didn't add that the situation in which she now found herself brought back memories of feeling helpless. Nor did she say that _that_ had made her cry.

Joe cursed under his breath. At the sight of her long pale fingers against the earth, he had thought of the grave himself. ´It's not silly,´ he said after clearing his throat.

They didn't speak until Joe carefully removed his hand. The Queen lowered the tissues a little.

´It has stopped,´ he informed her.

´Good,´ she said, ´Thank you. I will clean up.´

Taking the box of tissues with her, she walked to a small room connecting to her office. It had a wash-basin and a medicine-cupboard.

´I will manage Joseph,´ the Queen commented Joe following her inside.

´I know,´ he said, turning on the tap and waiting for the water to warm.

He offered her a wet tissue, sensing he'd go too far if he cleaned her face himself.

´Don't clean inside your nose ma'am.´

He stepped out, leaving the door open.

´It is best if you do not sniff or blow your nose for some time. And you shouldn't bend over either.´

´Understood Joseph,´ he heard.

When the Queen emerged (she had applied new make-up and was holding the box of tissues), she gave him a look, walked to a French window and stared at her gardens.

Joe followed her with his eyes.

Something outside gave her strength, or perhaps it was Joseph's reflection in the glass, which showed her that he was glancing at her like he used to do. She turned around.

´Joseph... We should talk -´

Taken aback by the look on his face, she stared at the box in her hands.

Joe, moved by the sight of her, did the bravest thing he'd ever done.

´You blame me,´ he offered.

His remark startled her, but she understood what he was referring to. How could she not?

´I _don't_ blame you Joseph. Your script was nearly perfect and – as I've told you - the decisions you and the Colonel made were logical.´

´What does logic have to do with it?´ he gruffly replied.

She eyed him before sitting down on a sofa.

´Logic doesn't keep me awake at night,´ she softly admitted. ´My nightmares start with a feeling of being abandoned.´

Joe groaned and turned around.

´Joseph, come here. Now that we are finally talking we must face each other.´

Joe inhaled deeply before walking toward her. He knelt at her feet.

´Joseph have a seat. Please.´

He shook his head.

´Did you feel abandoned _by me_?´ he asked.

She didn't answer immediately and when she did, Joe had to strain his ears to hear her.

´Yes.´

Before he knew how to react, she softly continued: ´I _knew_ that you would soon arrive. In the forest. While he was having dinner. When he made clear what he wanted... I pictured you...´ She stared at her hands.

´Saving you,´ Joe said, ´I was too late.´

She looked at him. He stared back.

´_Killing him_. And you did. I'm _alive_.´

She reached out her hand to touch his cheek, but the slightest withdrawal of his head made her freeze.

´I don't deserve your kindness,´ he said, ´Don't do this to yourself, don't be _understanding!_´

The Queen swallowed.

´You were hurt,´ Joe said, ´Do you blame me?´

´_He_ hurt me Joseph. Not you.´

´Please,´ he moaned.

´I felt so alone,´ was all the reply she gave. Before he could respond, she cupped his cheek. This time, he leant into her touch.

´It was just a feeling Joseph. You didn't aban -´

´Feelings are not _just_.´

She withdrew her hand.

´It happened,´ she said, ´we can't undo it.´

´What do you see when you look at me?´ he asked, his voice hoarse. ´The man who failed you? Send me away and I will go! How can you _bear_ me in your presence?´

´Joseph...´ the Queen whispered.

She stared at him, suddenly and painfully aware that the months of silence had been hard for the both of them. ´Joseph... I feel _safe_ with you...´

He bent his head and closed his eyes, willing the tears away.

The Queen inhaled deeply to muster courage. ´What do you see when you look at _me_?´ she whispered with a catch in her voice.

Surprised, he looked up. ´I see my Queen,´ he told her.

She blinked and looked away.

´I see _you_,´ he softly said.

She swallowed. His hand slowly moved to her cheek.

´Clarisse,´ he whispered.


	24. A box of tissues, part 2

This chapter takes place immediately following chapter 23.

* * *

Chapter 24 – A box of tissues, part 2

The Queen inhaled deeply, wanting to remain calm, wanting _not_ to cry. The tenderness in Joseph's gaze and touch and – last but not least - him calling her by her name, after so long, were her undoing. Her shoulders jolted. Joseph (confused, but knowing for certain that his beloved Queen needed to be comforted) wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb and rose from his kneeling position. He sat next to her on the sofa and she leant against him, sobbing uncontrollably.

He soothingly caressed her back, careful not to apply to much pressure, or to make unexpected movements.

´I... I...,´ he heard against his shoulder.

Joe, figuring that the repressed emotions from the baptism came out once more, knew how to reassure his Queen.

´It's not silly that you thought of that. When I saw your hand against the earth... I couldn't help thinking about it too,´ he softly said.

Still crying, she shook her head.

Joe relived what he had felt when he'd seen the grave and had had to make the two steps it took to see if it was empty or not. He held his Queen a little tighter.

´I... I...´ she hiccuped.

What comfort could he give her? Perhaps her nightmares _ended_ in a hole in the ground, but he was sure they _started_ elsewhere. He reached out to get her a tissue. There was a beep in his ear. Without a thought, Joe turned off his communication device.

´I ha- hate -´ she managed.

Joe stiffened.

´I hate it that you-´ the Queen continued.

Her breathing was shallow.

´I _hate_ it that you saw me like that,´ she tearfully concluded.

Joe's heart skipped a beat.

...

He recalled everything from the moment the kidnapper had drawn his gun in the Throne Room to himself carrying his Queen into her suite. A few minutes in between however were not a full colour film but a series of black and white photographs. No movement. No sound.

Click.

The kidnapper's bare back was stilled forever.

Click.

Her bruised face.

Click.

The rope around her wrists.

Joe wouldn't be able to describe what he must have witnessed on the bed even if his life depended on it.

Click.

Her body covered with a shiny sheet.

...

´I cried thi- thinking I might be f- found like that,´ the Queen hiccuped, weeping still.

A phone started ringing. Neither of them was aware of it.

´I didn't see... I swear, I didn't,´ he said, his voice faltering.

He moved back a little (not letting go of her), so she could look him in his eyes.

´I didn't,´ he repeated, but the rest of what he wanted to tell her had to wait: her nose had started bleeding again. She hadn't noticed it yet. He quickly held some tissues under her nose to prevent the blood from staining her clothes. At the same time there was a loud knock on the door.

´Your Majesty? Sir?´ someone outside called out.

Joe groaned and reluctantly let go of his Queen to answer the door. Guard Monet faced an angry panther and quickly removed his hand from his weapon.

´Sir. You didn't reply to -´

´No.´

Monet was too smart to finish his line.

´Is everything all right sir?´

´Yes.´

From inside the Queen's office came the click-clack of high heels. Sighing with relief, Monet retreated: ´Aye sir!´

Joe closed the door. Crossing the office he asked the Queen if she needed assistance.

´It has already stopped Joseph.´

Joe had his doubts but he couldn't see them confirmed for there was another knock on the door.

Turning on his heels, Joe growled: ´Who's there?´

On opening the door he found a maid carrying a tray with tea-things. She took a step back and swallowed. Joe's expression softened a little.

´I'll take that tray Anna.´

OoOoOoO

While waiting for his Queen to step into her office, Joe stared out of the window. It was a weight off his mind that she didn't blame him. He couldn't yet rejoice at it: why hadn't he realised how vulnerable she must have felt even _after_ the killing? She, who was always in control, must have been miserable believing she'd been exposed to his gaze. He _had_ to reassure her.

When the Queen, who'd washed her face and applied new make-up, entered her office, she saw a tray with a large tea-pot and one cup and saucer. It made her walk to a low cupboard from where she produced a beaker. Sitting down on the sofa, she poured them both tea. Joe seated himself next to her. He watched as she added honey to the liquid.

Click. Her bruised face. Click. The rope around her wrists. Click. Her body covered with a shiny sheet.

When she gave him the beaker, he reached out both hands, taking the beaker with one hand and catching her hand with the other. The beaker found its way to the tray again.

´I didn't _see_...´ he repeated where he'd left.

The Queen looked at their hands.

´Clarisse...´ he softly said.

She looked up.

´The Colonel covered you the moment I removed the body.´

The Queen studied Joseph's face. He radiated sincerity.

When at last she thoughtfully nodded, he exhaled.

´Send you away?´ she recalled something he'd said. She squeezed his hand, her expression serious. ´Did you _really_ think I planned to do that?´ She cupped his cheek with her free hand. ´I'm sorry Joseph. I never realised you feared to be dismissed.´

´Don't be. You've told me months ago that my decisions had been logical. You thanked me for saving your life. I should have realised that after saying that you wouldn't fire me.´

She bent forward and hugged him. He put his arms around her and held her as if he would never let go.

Another knock on the door. ´Your Majesty?´ a familiar voice called out.

The Queen broke their embrace. She smiled warmly at Joseph, who, moved, kissed her hand and sat down on the other end of the small sofa. It was all done swiftly.

´Yes Charlotte?´ the Queen replied, picking up her cup of tea.

The secretary entered. She saw Joe turn around a beaker.

´My son went to London and all he got me was this lousy beaker,´ he read.

´Philippe,´ the Queen and Joe said in unison. And they laughed aloud.

OoOoOoO

Pyrus, 15-2-02

Scribble. Today we talked. He thought I blamed him. He said he hadn't seen a thing. I believe him. It's how he remembered it, even though I have another recollection. I am so relieved B.


	25. Preparations

Chapter 25 Preparations

Being able to relax in each others company again, brightened the days of both the Queen and her Head of Security. As the days grew longer and spring marched in, the Queen only rarely had nightmares.

OoOoOoO

On an otherwise ordinary day, she spent part of the afternoon in a staff meeting. The heads of the various departments in the Castle informed her about the ongoing business. The Queen learned that the owners of the cleaning firm that had for decades taken care of the enormous curtains in the state rooms had retired, without having successors, and that the housekeeper had found a French firm to do the job.

The Master of Stables informed Her Majesty that one of his men would soon quit his job, for his Swedish wife was homesick.

´How romantic!´ Viscountess Margoli said.

The Queen smiled and inquired whether replacement was needed. The Master of Stables said (and he was sorry he hadn't asked Her Majesty for a private meeting, for the subject seemed too delicate to be discussed in the present setting) that that depended on whether or not the polo horses of prince Philippe were to be sold.

The courtiers – save one- stared at the table, while the Queen thought things over. She felt Joseph's supportive glance and gave him a reassuring smile.

´You can spread word that the horses are for sale Baron,´ she replied, ´and could you please ask Javier to come up with ideas for a farewell present?´

The spokesman made the most of Colonel Frerer's absence by first reminding the Queen that the Colonel had received the script for Red Alert # 3 (sent by director Goletsyn, to show that he was a gentleman) and then suggesting that he himself would read it also. Her Majesty remarked that the Colonel could handle it.

The last of the Queen's employees to speak was the Head of Security. He mentioned that the puppies that had been selected to serve as sleuths had passed their first training and would soon be brought to the Castle.

Joe was seated opposite the Queen, near the door. Hearing him talk, she suddenly wished he was sitting next to her, close by, so she could feel the warmth of his body.

´I hope Maurice isn't going to be jealous,´ Charlotte nervously broke the silence following Joe's remark.

Like her colleagues, she believed that the Queen had been thinking about the kidnap.

´The new dogs will not be my pets Charlotte,´ Her Majesty replied with a faint smile.

OoOoOoO

Walking back to her office, the Queen reminded herself that _before_ the kidnap, she'd thought about the problems an affair with Joseph would cause. The problems were still there of course, but she decided she would focus on her own needs for once. The need to have someone who loved her whisper sweet nothings in her ears. The need to see loving passion in someone's eyes instead of vile lust. The need to be caressed instead of being used. She could imagine _one_ man only to fulfil that need.

OoOoOoO

That evening Clarisse finished a letter to Beatrix. For the first time in months, she ended with _PS -?_

OoOoOoO

The Queen had attended a conference about public education and Joe welcomed her on her return to the Castle.

´I am glad that it finally stopped raining,´ she told her Head of Security, as she swung her legs out of the car.

She inhaled deeply. ´Spring is in the air Joseph.´

She asked her aid how much time she had left before her next appointment.

´You'd have to be back in fifteen minutes ma'am,´ Charlotte replied.

The Queen decided to have a walk. She gestured Joseph to join her.

Joe hoped the Queen would walk over the lawn, and she did. She sighed with satisfaction at the sight of hundreds of daffodils and tulips carpeting the borders. Joe spotted for a particular wet part of the lawn, and, happy to have found it, made her take note of it, offering her his arm just in case. She accepted it with a bright smile (´I'm so thrilled to see those sweet flowers and the buds on the trees´) even though she ignored Joseph's swamp. She also ignored the puddle-free footpaths and she didn't let go of her companion's arm until reaching the paving near the Castle.

Joe's skin still tinkled when they entered the Castle.

OoOoOoO

The Queen would visit her granddaughter in a few months time. Because she didn't want her dress maids to raise their eyebrows when being told what to pack, she made preparations. She stopped wearing pyjama trousers. And a few weeks later on, she told her maids that her pyjama jacket was a getting a little bit too warm. Some days after that she tried a silk nightgown, to find it was _just perfect_ for Genovian spring nights.

And for American summer nights it would do fine as well.

OoOoOoO

The Head of Security stared ahead of him as he opened the rear door of a limousine and extended his hand to assist his Queen to get out. She had attended the opening evening of a play and Joe had accompanied her.

The Queen's gown had shoulder-straps. Attached to them were see-through sleeves, ending in cuffs made of taffeta silk, just like her gown was. The dress showed cleavage, and since the Queen had not regained the weight she'd lost after the kidnap, she looked even more voluptuous than before.

All evening long three out of five of Joe's senses had been under heavy attack. He relished the sight of her, her husky voice, the scent of her perfume and he dreaded the moment the sweet assault would stop, even though he knew that tomorrow would bring yet another day of being besieged.

When they entered the Castle and she told him that she'd like to hear his opinion about the play, he was a happy man, knowing that he'd spend a little bit more time with her.

´I could order tea...´ she suggested.

Fifteen, twenty extra minutes together?

´It will be my pleasure.´

OoOoOoO

The Queen was elegantly seated on a sofa, her legs tucked underneath her and her right elbow resting on the back. It was a private pose, not a public one and to Joe it was a treat. He was sitting next to her and he wondered if he could be so bold as to caress the hand lying on her left knee.

´O really Joseph,´ he heard her say, ´you _must_ have noticed. Ophelia dropped her petticoat in the nunnery scene.´

´Did she?´

´It _was_ a rather _large_ petticoat.´

´Perhaps I was watching something else...´

She shrugged.

´Well, it _was_ unusual to have Horatio in that scene and - ´

She stopped when Joseph shook his head.

´I only had eyes for _you_,´ he told her.

She stared at him.

´You are so very beautiful,´ Joe said, his admiration obvious.

She reached out her hand to touch his face, but he took it and gently turned it to kiss her palm.

Four out of five.

´Kissing my hand won't do any more Joseph,´ she whispered. And with that, she bent toward him. For a moment neither knew what to do with their hands and arms. They moved at the same time. His hands found her waist and legs, hers his shoulder and chest.

Again they froze. And again they moved simultaneously.

Lips found lips.

Five out of five.

OoOoOoO

Ten minutes later Joe walked passed Capras who guarded the corridor leading to the Queen's suite. The young man greeted his boss might he as well have been invisible.

Joe's senses were filled with _her_. He inhaled deeply when he recalled what she'd said when she had carefully checked his face for traces of her lipstick.

_San Francisco Joseph._


	26. Getting settled

Chapter 26 Getting settled

The Queen was always aware of the fact that the Castle had ears and eyes.

In her office the cameras were spying on the doors. Joseph being there was perfectly acceptable, but the frequency of his visits could not be altered. A meeting in her office once a week when they were but a warning knock on the door away from people intruding.

Joseph accompanying her when she walked Maurice wouldn't cause raised eyebrows. However: they were but a rose bush or a hedge away from bumping into a gardener and hardly a corner went unseen from the guards in the monitoring room.

As for her suite: it held no cameras and no one would disturb her unless it was Very Important. No one would enter her apartment without her explicite permission. But despite Joseph's rank in her household, people would talk when he'd spend time in her private rooms. A dull cup of tea after a play was fine but how often did she go to the theatre? In the coming four months she would see two plays and one opera. Three brief opportunities to kiss and cuddle.

She sometimes scolded herself for giving Joseph a hint as to where she planned to take their relationship once they were in San Francisco. It was one thing that _she_ was sizzling with anticipation when she was near him, but to make _him_ yearn too was something she at times regretted. But then: that knowing look in his eyes... it made her feel feminine and powerful.

In August they would become lovers, undisturbed by anyone. Until then all they had were two plays and one opera.

After a particularly bad day (Members of Parliament being annoying, Charlotte taking Maurice out so _she_ wouldn't have to do it – _How thoughtful of you Charlotte, but I'm sure that I could have cleared ten minutes of my schedule for a walk - _and a far too long phone call with the President of Italy) she gave utterance to her frustration in a letter to Beatrix: two plays, one opera and three times fifteen minutes to kiss.

A few days later on she received a parcel from The Hague. She first read the accompanying letter.

_Dear C,_

_And here I was thinking that you were shrewd as well as playful. No further comments, just open the gift._

_B_

Biting her lower lip, Clarisse unwrapped the present.

It was the two players card version of the Settlers of Catan.

OoOoOoO

On the first Thursday evening the Queen and Joe came together to play a game, they studied the rules and started to colonise Catan. It was their alibi after all and they needed to be able to play it. For half an hour it seemed as if playing settlers was all they'd do, but the Queen prevented that from happening by saying: ´This is as close to a date as we will ever get.´

Joe nodded. ´I would love to take you for a row on a lake,´ he replied. ´I'd bring a parasol to protect you from getting burned, a basket with strawberries and lemonade and -´

´Tea,´ she added with a bright smile, leaning her face on her hands.

Joe stared at her lovingly. ´I would never forget your favourite drink. I'll bring scones and marmalade and juicy pears. I'll read you a story or serenade you on my guitar.´

They held hands across the table.

´Or I could take you to a tango café.´

´We can dance here as well,´ she reasoned.

With the radio playing classic pop songs, it was hard to obey to the rules of a particular dance. Besides, all they really needed was an excuse to touch each other. To cuddle. To kiss.

OoOoOoO

On their third Thursday evening Joe -on entering his beloved's suite – found her selecting music. Clarisse looked over her shoulder to greet him with a smile.

Joe walked toward his Queen, who was studying the rear side of a CD box. Standing closely behind her, he put his arms around her, fully intending to play tribute to her neck.

She shrugged him off. He immediately stepped back.

She inhaled audibly.

´Cla- Clarisse?´

She placed the CD in the player. Before the first notes could fill the room, Joe asked her what was wrong. Turning around, she shook her head.

´Querida, please tell me! I don't want my touch to cause you pain.´

´Your gentle hands could never hurt me Joseph.´

He was moved by her statement but – having an idea about what was going on in her mind- he didn't let go of the subject: ´So you won't mind me holding you like that again?´

He took a step toward her. She didn't step back but her eyes betrayed her.

´Clarisse, did _he_ hold you like that?´

She nodded. After a short silence, she took a step toward him and cupped his cheek.

´Clarisse, may I kiss your palm?´

She nodded.

´My love,´ he continued after brushing her palm with his lips, ´may I kiss your forehead?´

She gave him a feeble smile in reply.

Although he kissed her reverently, he sensed that she preferred more distance between their bodies. ´May I invite you to play?´ he said, making a grand gesture toward a table where the game was waiting.

She relaxed.

OoOoOoO

´I've bought the Settlers of Catan too and just like you said it's fun!´ Mrs Danieli told Teballi.

The housekeeper, who was the cook's opponent on Catan, nodded her agreement.

´My nephew and his fellow students play it every week, just like Her Majesty and Mr Romero,´ Viscountess Margoli said, ´Did you know they hold _tournaments_ for that game?´

Charlotte voiced her surprise.

´Say Miss Charlotte,´ the cook said, ´do you know how the Colonel feels about being played by Lucy Scott?´

Charlotte -who now understood why the housekeeper had been giving Mrs Danieli encouraging glances - put down her cup of tea.

´She said she'd liked her in _Pride and prejudice_.´

´She should have been played by Julie Dreyfus,´ Teballi contributed. The ladies ignored him.

´How does the Head of Security feel about being played by Ben Kingsley?´ the cook asked Charlotte.

The Queen's aid smiled: ´He said it was a more logical choice than Arnold Schwarzenegger.´

Goletsyn's choices for the leads were not discussed.

OoOoOoO

´Did you know,´ Joe asked on the sixth Catan Thursday, ´that your curious servants _still_ believe they can make the Colonel talk about the script?´

´Really? That makes them persistent as well as foolish.´

Joe grinned and placed the cards, dies and tokens in the box. He then took his beloved's hand and walked her to their favourite sofa. She comfortably sat against him and he naturally placed his arms around her. Clarisse placed a hand on Joseph's upper leg.

´I've grown fond of the Colonel,´ she said.

He kissed her head. ´So have I.´

´Among many things she is a storyteller,´ she continued, ´and I bless my good fortune for that.´

´Hmm,´ Joe replied, ´do you know that _I_ am a storyteller also?´

´Oh?´

´Yes, I may not use such fluent lines as she does, but I am a master of short speech.´

She made a throaty sound.

´Don't laugh!´

She laughed aloud.

´Let me prove it.´

She snuggled up to him. ´All right, I'm listening.´

He smiled into her hair. ´Querida,´ he started, ´you make my heart beat.´

She laid her head in the crook of his neck.

´You're elegant, intelligent, hermosa,´ he whispered.

Her hand moved up to touch his face en guide it to her waiting lips.

He broke off their kiss earlier than pleased her.

´I have more to tell,´ Joe teased. When he continued he was serious again: ´I relish holding you. It makes me feel invincible.´

´Joseph...´

Bending toward her ear, he started to whisper sweet words in multiple languages.

Her fingers on his lips made him stop.

´Joseph, promise me that you will never call me _cherie_,´ she said, ending her line almost inaudible.

´Did he...?´

She nodded.

Joe thoughtfully caressed her shoulders.

´Joseph?´

´Hm?´

´I thought you were boasting about being a master of short speech?´ Turning in his arms she added: ´I won't mind if your lips would find other employment though.´

OoOoOoO

´This is the tenth time in a row you've won,´ he said.

´You don't hear _me_ complain,´ she smiled.

´You might allow me to win once...´

´Don't give me that look.´

´What look?´ he innocently asked.

´The sad puppy look,´ she told him, stiffling a yawn.

´I know it is irre-´

He stopped in mid-sentence for the sight of her stretching her arms above her head and squirming her upper body enchanted him.

Seeing the look on his face, her expression became thoughtful. ´Oh you,´ she whispered, ´I love you.´

OoOoOoO

Perhaps other secret lovers would have used every single minute of their precious private time in a bedroom. Clarisse and Joseph divided their time between Catan and a sofa in a sitting room.

Oh, they could think of several reasons. This _was_ the closest thing to a date they'd ever get: the best chance to get to know each other even better. _She_ didn't want him to go from knocking on her door with a polite ´Your Majesty?´ to kissing her longing lips, without having proof that she, Clarisse, welcomed him, not she, the Queen. _He_ didn't want her to think he merely longed for her body.

They couldn't afford to go too far and passionate kisses and chaste touches (that made them shiver nonetheless) were all they exchanged.

Their senses were tolerably satisfied by each others scent, voice and appearance. Taste and touch were saved for the last, to give them sensuous dreams in the week to come.

August was approaching.


	27. Moments to remember

Author's note: This is _Kidnap_'s final chapter. The Queen and her Head of Security found each other again and so have Clarisse and Joseph. There ends this story. When you've come this far you must have an opinion about the story. I would appreciate your comments.

* * *

Chapter 27 Moments to remember

Mia had wanted to see a movie for her birthday, with her friends, her mother, her mother's boyfriend and last but not least her grandmother. And Joe naturally. And naturally Joe had not agreed to Mia's plan: going to the movies like normal people. Queuing for tickets and popcorn. Watching a film with hundreds of unknown others. He had come up with an alternative.

OoOoOoO

A cinema in San Francisco: Mia, Michael and Lilly thought that being ushered in via the emergency exit and have someone stand ready with enough refreshments to last them through the Godfather trilogy, was rather _cool_.

Helen acted blasé. She held Patrick's hand to prove she'd made the right decision all those years ago and she shrugged when the cinema's director came to greet them. Well, _them:_ he was mostly interested in _Her Majesty_. The man nearly swooned when the Queen talked to him.

She _is_ a beautiful woman, Helen admitted to herself. Even though the Queen had only arrived in the US this morning, she looked lovely. Joe, who stared at doors and emergency exits, seemed a little tense, perhaps _he_ did have a jet-lag?

´What's the last movie you've seen grandma?´

The Queen gave it a thought.

´I think it was Billy Elliot.´

Joe nodded.

´You don't go to the movies often do you?´ Mia asked.

The Queen smiled. ´No I don't. Every three years I attend the opening evening of the annual Genovian film festival and I might not see a single film in between.´

´Well,´ Mia said, ´tonight you're gonna see a movie that will not be shown at the festival -´

The girl looked at her friends and the three of them said in unison: ´Austin Powers in goldmember!´

As the three youngsters entered the theatre, the Queen looked at Helen.

´Mr Dental Problem?´

Patrick laughed, Joe's eyes sparkled and Helen was amused despite herself.

´Just like her father,´ the Queen fondly smiled, shaking her head. Helen grinned in reply.

OoOoOoO

Mia had wanted to see all of it. So not just the film, but the commercials and the trailers as well. In row eight the birthday girl and her friends had made themselves comfortable. The smell of their popcorn slowly filling the cinema accompanied their comments about a long perfume commercial.

Helen and her friend occupied seats in row eleven.

The Queen had opted for row fourteen. She was at ease with the world: Mia was sweet, Michael and Lilly were nice, Helen was kind and she liked Patrick O'Donnell. Pleasantly aware of Joseph sitting next to her, she felt utterly feminine.

Joe was -yet again- telling himself that his instructions to the staff at the consulate ensured Her Majesty's privacy. His men would stand guard at the bottom of the stairs leading to the Queen's floor. _H__er_ suite and _his_ room were situated in the same camera-free corridor.

Tonight. Outside Joe was in control, but inside he was a nervous wreck. Tonight he was going to make love to the woman who had captured his heart years ago. Having looked forward to this day for months, he feared someone or something might interfere with their plans. Maybe Mia would suddenly feel that her birthday would only be complete by moving the party to Disney world. Or the Prime Minister might call to say that a disaster had occurred in Genovia and could Her Majesty please return immediately? He longed for her. He'd only touched her skin where it was exposed to his gaze. He vividly recalled the dress she'd worn at the opera a few weeks ago... it had enabled him to not only kiss her neck but her shoulders also. He had not dared to trail kisses in her décolleté.

She was still uncomfortable with him holding her while standing behind her. He wouldn't do that again. He'd _never_ call her cherie. But apart from that, he felt free to adore her. He longed to slowly undress her, to explore those parts of her body he had so far neglected. He longed to learn how she responded to his ministrations. He couldn't wait to feel her cool fingers and her soft lips on his skin. She knew what made him shiver as if they'd been lovers for decades already. He longed to feel her body squirming, to hear her moans of pleasure.

A deep voice vibrated through the cinema:

_Some stories really happened..._

The screen showed the words

WLADIMIR GOLETSYN PRESENTS

followed by a flash of film in which a tall man with a yellow shawl held a gun to the head of an elegant lady. The names

FRANCESCA ANNIS MICHAEL MADSEN

were followed by

RED ALERT #3

and more shots: a helicopter flying above a road pursuing a Jeep. The interior of the Jeep as seen from the back seat. Heavy metal on the background. A refined woman's voice saying:

´I really must tell my drivers to store other CDs. The next time I get kidnapped, I would rather listen to _music_.´

A man said:

´There will _be_ no next time.´

Flashes of armed soldiers. The tall man dragging the lady with him into a dark place. Despite the fact that the man still held a gun to her head, the lady had a cold, dangerous glance in her eyes. The door fell shut (leaving the screen dark) with a soft but very audible click.

COMING SOON.

Silence.

Amelia turned in her chair. ´I'm _so_ sorry grandma, I didn't know...´

´It's all right darling.´

´But I _really_ didn't know, I mean we went to the movies last week and it wasn't shown then...´

´No,´ Helen confirmed after clearing her throat and turning around, ´that's true. I never thought that -´

´It's all right, please don't feel uncomfortable,´ the Queen said.

Not caring for Stealing Harvard's trailer, Mia kept asking her grandmother if she really was OK.

´I am _fine_ darling.´

Mia judged that her grandmother sounded sincere. When Lilly tugged at her sleeve she faced the screen again.

OoOoOoO

The Colonel had described Red Alert #3 into detail and the Queen knew what to expect. According to the Colonel the film was well-made and the director had made the most of the action scenes but the story centred around the psychological battle between Annis and Madsen.

The Queen had a feeling that Amelia would like Madsen's: ´This is the holiday tribute to AC/DC Hell's Bell's of Christmas´ followed by Annis's reply:´That is a breathtaking way to say _noise_.´

Listening to the Colonel reading aloud some lines was another cup of tea than hearing an actress in a moss-green coat and an actor wearing a yellow shawl say their text. The Queen shrugged it off. Joseph pressed her hand and she felt him glance at her. In the darkness the cinema offered she tenderly touched his cheek. She knew he would _never_ hurt her. _Her_ 'no' would be _his_ 'no'.

OoOoOoO

Back at Helen and Mia's place the small party had a good time. At first Joe kept to the background, but his Queen gave him an inviting smile at the same moment Mia urged him to have a seat. Joe obliged. He didn't make much conversation. He listened, nodded and scolded himself for fantasizing that an outsider might picture him to be Mia's grandfather. When it came to his relationship with Clarisse, he didn't know what the future would bring. He couldn't expect too much. Perhaps he shouldn't even expect more than _one_ night, but then again: he'd seen how she looked at him.

_She loves me. And as long as we have our Thursday evenings, I couldn't wish for more. She. Loves. Me._

´Earth to Joe!´

Joe looked at Mia.

´What is it princess?´

´Michael asked you something,´ the girl informed him.

When the boy repeated his question, Mia told her grandmother that Joe probably had a jet-lag. Helen nodded and although the Queen knew better, she thought it was a charming idea. She acted concerned. A while later on the Queen elegantly stepped inside an armoured limousine. Her Head of Security respectfully inclined his head before closing the door behind her. He himself took a seat next to the driver. Not even Mia and Lilly could have suspected that the graceful lady and the _tired_ man would soon become lovers.

OoOoOoO

Clarisse enjoyed her privacy during the ride to the consulate.

Tonight.

Her eyes sparkled. Joseph would be hers tonight. They would become lovers.

She wasn't nervous about it. Over the past months she'd gotten in touch with her body again. _She_ loved Joseph, _he_ loved her. What was there to worry? If he was as good a lover as he was a dancer, tonight would be wonderful. She bit her lower lip in anticipation: his kisses and touches had proved that he was attuned to her. She longed for him. She longed to tease him, to caress him, to see passion and loving want in his eyes. The fact that she wasn't young any more didn't bother her for nor was Joseph. Besides, at sixty-six she was more confident about herself and her desires than she'd been fifty years ago.

When they arrived at the consulate it was late in the evening. The weather was still sultry. Clarisse felt it perfectly reflected her mood.

OoOoOoO

As it happened, it was a Thursday.

Joe -who'd taken a shower and changed – entered his love's sitting room and locked the door behind him. There was a game of Catan waiting on the table with a pot of tea and cookies. Joe just stared at it. He had pictured many things but not this. On hearing sounds from the other room he sat down, his back to the bedroom door.

Clarisse found him preparing the game.

_Dear Joseph._

She heard him swallow when she approached him and lovingly smiled at his back. Standing behind him, she trailed her hands from his shoulders to his chest.

´This is just for keeping up appearances,´ she whispered.

Joe grabbed her hands and brought them to his lips. She cupped his cheek and used her other hand to catch one of his.

´Dance with me?´ she suggested.

It wasn't until then that Joseph looked at her. She too had freshened up and changed. She was wearing a long black dress with a low neck line and shoulder straps adorned with diamonds.

Magic.

The longing in Joseph's eyes gave Clarisse goose-flesh.

´There is no music,´ Joe managed.

´Do we _need_ music?´

They wangoed. Naturally. Fluently.

Joe saw a smile on his beloved's face. ´What is it Querida?´ he asked, his voice deep.

´I was just thinking Joseph,´ she said, whirling away from him, ´that dancing...´ she whirled back, ´provides perfect foreplay.´

And with that she pressed her body against his.

Naturally. Fluently. Intimately.

She pulled his head toward her at the moment he locked his arms around her. Her hands moved to his back, fingertips teasing him through his shirt. His lips found her neck. She sighed with contentment. He smiled, nibbled her earlobe and whispered: ´Foreplay hasn't even started yet.´

Ten minutes later they were still in the sitting room and although she had managed to open the top buttons of his shirt, they were still dressed. Her moans of delight were music to Joe's ears. Her scent aroused him and made him want to speed things up. His tried to control his needs by recalling the first words he had learned to read. Her hands were everywhere: drawing circles on his back, caressing the skin behind his ears, briefly resting on his behind.

Shivering, Joe placed a chaste kiss on Clarisse's forehead.

Chemistry: actinium Ac, aluminium Al, amer-

She blew against the bared skin of his chest. He groaned. She caught his hands and placed them on her breasts. His heart skipped a beat, and another one when his thumbs on their own accord found her erect nipples.

A throatily sound escaped her.

´Clarisse...´ he moaned.

She kissed him hungrily.

´I want you Joseph,´ she whispered against his lips.

Magic words.

Clarisse met no resistance when she slowly shuffled Joseph into her bedroom.

OoOoOoO

The next day a message was sent to The Hague.

It wasn't a letter, or even a scribble. But it moved its receiver to tears. It read:

PS – bliss


End file.
